A letter to a friend who never was...

The irony of losing something you never had...

Dear ----,

I saw you yesterday, but I didn't bother to say hi. You wouldn't recognize me anyway, maybe not even remember. You were in the company of your new friends, having lunch on the terrace of the new restaurant on 4th Street. You were basking under the glorious September sun, laughing. They echoed your laughter. I remember that laughter, the one you shared with me eons ago, or so it seems.

I wonder if you read poetry to them as well. I wonder if you play violin and enchant them with your songs - like you did with me. I wonder if you share your thoughts and emotions with your newfound friends. I wonder if you even think about me, or miss me, or seek my presence.

You were a huge part of my being - a refuge from my loneliness and my static life. You gave me your art and brought me back to the cradle of prose. How I sought you each day for inspiration. How I ran down the stairs whenever I would see you walking down the street from the window of my apartment to say hello and to engage in small talk - small talks that lead to discussions of life, love, and the arts. We wouldn't even notice the time or eventide. You were my friend, so dear to my heart, until the rains of November swept.

I still do not understand what you thought you might gain from fooling me. Did you seek approval? Did you seek recognition? Did you seek to be envied? I probably will never know. You have been elusive since the last time we exchanged pleasantries. Guilt probably started creeping up your veins and so you can no longer face me and tell me lies. Could also be that you have ran out of stories - concocted tales of your life. Perhaps you have run out of emotions - fabricated emotions about the society we were in. Perhaps I have been demanding or clingy. Perhaps you thought I was impeding your growth so you had to turn your back on me. Ha! I can't believe I'm still making excuses for you even though I already know that you have deceived me from the beginning.

Still, I thank you for being my escape - even if it was for a short while. I can now breathe on my own and wallow in my own art. Perhaps later, our paths will cross again. I would still know you, but hopefully, I would be someone new to you. But to fool me again, is the last thing that would happen.

Sincerely,

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