Have you ever wondered what it's like to have a part of you missing?
It's an awkward feeling, it is.
I don't know if I'm what you would call 'healed' but I'm more or less fine now.
I'm not depressed anymore. I'm not even angry in the least, now.
Instead, I feel... awkward.
I still want to talk to her, but of course I know I can't, or even will, but still that doesn't stop me.
In fact, there are so many things I want to ask her. I feel as if there's no real ending to where we're heading. We're just suspended in thin air, going no where, yet moving on.
I don't want to approach her if she's not approaching me.
I keep that goal in mind and stay put where I am.
However, I know I am so tempted that it's probing my conscious.
I still visit her blog from time to time, since it's the only way I can know what's going on in her life.
She seems fine.
From the looks of it, it seems like she really doesn't care anymore. I've died out of her life and it doesn't matter anymore.
I wonder if that's something good to know about.
I know I'm not the only one with other friends to rely on. And I know for a fact that maybe, just maybe, I can be replaced after all.
Once again, I wonder if that's a bad or good thing.
I want to know what's going on with her life.
A life that I'm not part of anymore.
It's not an obsession, but it feels somewhat natural.
I wonder if she feels as awkward as I am.
All these questions crowding my head are making me dizzy.
What am I suppose to answer when someone asks me who is my best friend?
Who am I suppose to talk to when I'm feeling lonely?
Where will I be without her?
It's all so different.
And again, I ask myself if she's the same.
Why is it always like this? Why does it always appear one-sided? Why can't I seem to feel anything from her?
I told myself that I don't need her.
But maybe it's really the other way round. Maybe she doesn't need me.
I have this sinking feeling that tells me that maybe she's already moved on.
Leaving me behind.
Picking up the hand phone beside me, I find myself scrolling through our old messages, with her calling me 'sugar' and me pretending to hold our non-existent marriage together. I dig through my drawer and find a whole pile of notebooks that I used to buy from the school bookshop. Flipping them open, I gaze at the childish drawings we used to doodle during math classes.
How silly we were, how close we had been.
How can our friendship now... seem so much like an illusion?
I thought she would always be with me...
So how come I'm standing here...
alone?
