I still have your birthday saved in my phone.
I know it’s pointless to keep it. I don’t need it anymore.
Our friendship ended nearly three months ago. 
We parted through bitter truths and with even more bittersweet words.
About how we wished things were different.
How we wish we were both better.
How we wish that our friendship was more like it was before.
We grew apart, we split apart, it happens.
I don’t need that little birthday reminder on my calendar for the 3rd of September anymore. 
Sometimes I’ll scroll through the months in my calendar and hold my finger over the delete button. I never can manage to press it though.
It doesn’t matter anyways.
I’ve had it memorized for years.

It still feels weird to me. 
That after 4 long years of us being friends, you’re not here anymore.
It wasn’t sudden, you slowly drifting out of my life.
But there’s still a you shaped hole.
And you’re not dead.
You didn’t fall off the face of the Earth or disappear.
You still go to the same magnet school program as my sister and still live only 5 minutes away from me.
And I think that’s the worst part of it all.
That despite no longer being in each other’s lives;
Our lives still go on.

And someday our paths will cross gain.
It’s a small town after all.
We may run into each other again; probably at one of my sister’s prayers.
You’ll be a character dancing in the background as I watch on from the audience.
Or maybe we’ll run into each other on some unlucky Monday afternoon.
We’ll meet each other’s eyes. Or we won’t look at all. 
And we’ll pass each other by.

And I hope, someday, that I won’t be as angry. As hurt.
That I won’t stay awake at night remembering all the toxic things you did.
Or wondering where it all went wrong.
Instead I hope someday as I go to sleep, the thought of you will make me laugh.
And make me wonder why I even gave a shit about you at all.
Maybe if I’m lucky, someday in the far future, the thought of you will flick through my mind and I’ll realize I haven’t thought of you in awhile.
Or even better I’ll never think of you at all.
But probably not.

That’s the thing about loosing friends and bitter ends.
You can hate them all you want.
Or try as hard as you can to forget them.
But you still wake up with things you desperately want to tell them.
And you go to bed wondering if they’re okay.

But I hope anyways that I will stop loving you.
That this bitterness and anger that I feel will reveal itself as persistent grief and then disappear like smoke before my eyes.
I hope someday I’ll delete all your information and your number from my phone.
I hope one day that I’ll see that the date is 9/3 and I won’t even think of you at all.
I Hope, I Hope, I Hope.
But probably not.