Our friendship really did start with a story. It nearly was a story in itself. Almost fairy-tale-cliche esque. The logical friend, the chaotic friend. But we were still so similar. We spent countless hours giggling at tiny baking ovens, silly fantasy roleplays with our characters finding the correct ratios of pixies to pasta, playing violin and flute, and reading each other's stories. Those stories crafted my writing style today, and no matter how different it is now, I’ll never quite escape the character that points out that everything is illogical. Never quite escape her writing in the notes on sheet music I cannot read. Those characters still float along in the violin boat in my head, still speed by on the tracks of the flute trains. Thank you for that. I cherished the part of my life that I spent with you. It was a good part. A good thing. And I told you all good things must end.
Was I wrong?
Would you even tell me if it is too late?
Comments
Thank you. I really needed this
Thank you, for writing the original poem. I'm glad we both got to write our respective pieces <3
Log in or register to post comments.