not now , or the tragedy of having left

I miss you. I miss what we used to have and I am sorry I left. When I first met you I thought you were the snobbiest, meanest person. I used to get anxious when you came around and I faded into the background.  I tried to hide it though, because I know it was not okay to not be "naturally cool", and that no one knew that such a thing as "anxiety" existed.

I don't really remember how we became friends. I never thought you of all people would become my best friend. I didn't think our two "worlds" could mix. I was the quiet, (mute) girl who it was very easy to not notice and to forget to invite to parties. I was the girl who never quite felt like she belonged in those parties. I was the girl who liked your friends and whom your friends liked back but I was more than convinced that these two friends were a bridge between our two "worlds" and that they were uncrossable. 

I don't quite remember how we became friends, but I miss you and I am glad we did. Thanks to you I my last year home was the best year home. It was so crazy to find out we lived so close together, but it was such a nice thing to discover. I spent hours at your house and I don't truly remember what we did much: watch movies? bake? I think it mostly consisted of talking. I'm convinced I talked to you so much and that as I did I grew up, I listened to myself and I listened to you and I think now, that those 5pm talks, all added up, make up a lof of what I am and think now.

I'm trying really hard to remember how it started now, and I'm pretty sure it was in English class. That's pretty much all I can remember though, and I don't remember any of the subsequent interactions. I only remember us being friends after that moment. You came to me in one of the worst periods of my life, if not the worst. I was so painfully empty, lonely, bored and above all scared to death that those feelings would never stop. Nothing mattered and I was suprised at how much my cowardice had kept me from killing myself for so long. My one hope was to leave, go somewhere else; it was to force myself to leave my country and the person I was there (a void) and to seek out what I saw on Tumblr pictures on my own.

I don't understand how but, back home, something happened to me that I began to efface myself until I was a mere blank even to myself. I trained myself to contain all the thoughts and feelings inside me and I am struggling really hard now to undo what I have done. Even now I don't know what I am made of, what's inside of me? What do I want? What am I good at? Who am I making myself become? I am trying, quietly and very slowly, to look back and single out events that can fit into the puzzle-shaped pieces of my current feelings and thoughts. It doesn't work.

I've found myself thinking about you a lot lately. About my relationship with you and it's meaning in my life. You see, I'm very lonely right now. I've done a complete analysis and I've come to the conclusion that I have a lot of friends, but they are all very, very far away. And most of them I will very likely never see again. I have travelled 9690 km away from familiarity, inside jokes, baking mornings, dinner dates, wine nights. I have travelled 9,690 km away from friendship.

I miss you. I miss my best friend and I am sorry I left because I know we could've been so good. I miss all the things we didn't get to live through together, I miss all the jokes, and all the baked cakes and all the secrets and all the tears and all the thoughts and feelings we could've experienced together. 

I don't have what I loved having with you and I miss you and what we could be doing right now were I there. I miss it every minute. I'm very lonely.