I miss it sometimes still.

Not the person themselves,

But the intimacy of a bond that felt eternal.

The desperation of high school friendship,

So all encompassing, all consuming.

You imagine they will take you from graduation to grave,

A constant body sewn to your hip,

Never to leave your side.

The foresight to imagine things outside closed environments is too foreign a thought for you still.

You are as ignorant in your fugacious youth as you are hopeful.

You have not yet learnt the ephemeral nature of teenage animosity.

It’s a wretched thing, going from twin flames to strangers.

There’s a coldness left behind from the absence of that raging fire of kindred kindling.

Sometimes, so many years later,

I almost turn to speak over my shoulder,

A fleeting comment or a shared joke.

But I am always surprised when I see there is no one there.

Not all was lost in our departure though,

Maybe in its passing there were some things that stood the test of time.

I still have the annotated books on my shelves borrowed from years ago,

The image of your print still lingers on playlists co-created in noisy lunchrooms,

And some moments are forever frozen on old camera rolls on uncharged phones.

So perhaps those juvenile affections were not unimportant after all.

If friendships were worth something, I’d think that ours only grew in value after all this time.

An antiqued thing that was always worth more as the years passed.