"Why do you think we stopped being close?"

"Why did I even ask that? Why does it matter? You're not going to get close again anyways."

I groaned to myself, breaking the silence in my room as I stuffed a pillow to my face in an attempt to smother my humiliated self to death.

Did I really have to cling onto him like that?

Emily, have you really got no pride?

Years have passed and I've stopped counting.

The trips I take down memory lane occurs less frequently but during the split seconds that I lose my focus and my mind has nothing to busy itself with, I find myself cringing inwardly; big time.

I think that chapter contains the most disgraceful moments of my life.

As they always say, regret comes after.

I pulled the pillow off my face and stared at my room's ceiling.

It was a Saturday afternoon but the sky outside was dark and grey, heavy clouds blocking the sun's rays.

A lightning flashed in the sky.

My room was flooded with light for that split second and I braced myself for the roar of thunder that came a few seconds afterwards.

Sure enough, the boom of the thunder echoed through the sky before it started pouring cats and dogs outside.

I turned my head to look outside of the window when the sound of the pelts of rain drummed against my window and rooftop.

I sat up, getting out of my bed and slipping into my pair of slippers as I walked closer to the window above my study desk.

I laid a hand on the glass, the cold felt nice under my fingertips. I traced the wet trail that the droplets of water left behind as they slid down the cool surface on the other side.

Every time it rained like this, it reminds me of the times that I'd feel nostalgic and think about Alex. I cracked the window slightly open to let some of the cold air in and sting me to wake me up.

The musky smell of wet grass hit me before the cold breeze did as it wafted through the small gap between my window sill. I opened my eyes and watched as the trees danced along with the wind.

I sat down on my study desk chair, taking out a piece of scrap paper and a pencil.

Let's just write everything down and burn it, burn the feelings and memories along with it.

I nodded to myself, convinced that it was a good idea.

I'll pour everything out onto paper and burn the paper away. Maybe this way I'll actually be able to discard the memories and move on properly.

I tapped my pencil on the piece of paper as I thought about where I should start.

I don't know..

"Right, I don't know what I'm supposed to write." I thought to myself as I erased the three words off the paper and started again.

I looked out the window and decided to write whatever comes to mind.

∞ ∾ ∞ ∾ ∞

Do you think the trees know when it's about to get rained on? Or when the wind is about to blow so hard that their leaves will be forcefully shaken off their branches and sway the tall and mighty tree itself?

Do you think the old me knew that the memories we made as best friends would still be strong enough to sway me years later?

Do you think I had knowingly given you consent to shake my branches even though I knew that would cause me to shed my leaves?

I wonder if I knew that I'd end up being swayed. I wonder if I simply didn't mind getting swayed.

When do you think I felt my branches get shook for the first time?

Was it that time when we were on the road on our way home from school and you texted me, "Your car's right in front of mine," and we betted on who would reach home first?

We ended up forgetting about that bet because we had so many things to talk about and the thought of notifying each other that we've reached our respective houses had completely slipped our minds.

But I can still recite your car's registration plate number since that day.

For the 2 years that we were best friends, I would try finding your car in the rows of parked cars at school to see if you've arrived. I can still point out the usual parking spot you'd take up. You'd often reach school early and take a nap in your car.

After 2 years, finding your car in the rows of parked cars became a habit that stayed even after we stopped talking as frequently.

Was it that time when I told you I was in the convenience store and you thought I was in the store next to our school? You had told me to wait there for you to come.

I think my heart skipped a beat when you asked me to wait for you.

"Don't leave yet. I'm almost there." You texted.

I pursed my lips to hide my smile.

"Why am I waiting again?" I had asked.

My heart was starting to race at the thought of seeing you. Now that I think about it, maybe that was when it all began?

You had told me, "I just want to meet you," and I could only answer with a simple "okay" when I was actually grinning like an idiot.

When you said that you arrived and was asking me where I was, I started looking around to search for you like a madman.

Like a couple of idiots, we ended up searching two entirely different stores for each other only to realize that we weren't in the same store.

Then there was that 2nd birthday party I invited you to.

We were already so close by then that pretty much everyone found out about our friendship and suspected we were together.

Everyone were in the pool, water was splashing and sloshing everywhere as we played with the small colorful balls I had poured into the pool before everyone arrived.

Even as we all played a game of dodgeball together, it felt like I was only playing a one-on-one game with you. You were my target and I was yours.

Naturally, I got frustrated since I kept missing due to my horrible sense of aim and I started to chase you in the water.

Our skills were always more or less on par, in academics, and dare I say, sports. Our grades in our report cards always had a 2 mark gap for 4 years straight.

I guess that gap goes for our swimming skills too; there was always that small gap between us when we chased each other. The gap was always big enough for you to swim away and not get caught but small enough for my fingers to graze your ankle, as if I could grab onto it and catch you any second.

I think that was the last birthday party I threw that you attended.

I remember that I almost cancelled the next birthday party, thinking that it wouldn't matter as much if you weren't going to be there to celebrate it with me.

∞ ∾ ∞ ∾ ∞

I stopped writing for a moment to let myself drown in more memories. For once, I didn't resist the flood of flashing images and embraced them instead, taking my time in remembering each one. I closed my eyes and thought about the PE periods when we played basketball together.

We'd always play in opposing teams, he'd always be carrying the ball and I'd guard him.

With grins on our faces, it was a bit unclear on whether we were playing in teams or a one-on-one match.

For the split second where we stood face-to-face with each other as he tried to get past my defense, we'd exchange challenging grins and mess with one another. For that short moment, it was only us going up against each other on an empty court as everyone else faded into the background.

An unconscious smile crept onto my lips as my feelings got overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia.

I stared out the window, my heart growing heavy at how intense the feelings were.

"I miss you," I whispered earnestly, letting me be honest to myself for once.

∞ ∾ ∞ ∾ ∞

Do you remember about the times where you'd worry about me?

Maybe that was when the wind started blowing hard enough to not only shake my leaves off but also sway me as a whole?

My eye had acted up in class that day.

I've always had a lazy eye since I was a little kid. I think that was the first time you found out about it, though.

You panicked when you saw that my lazy eye didn't go away after a while and basically rushed to the infirmary to get me some eye-drops.

(Like that would help.)

Still, Alexander West, you were the cutest when you worry.

Another day, I had a nosebleed in class and had to rush to the restroom to tend to it.

You had looked me over in worry when I came back to the classroom and mouthed to ask me if I was okay.

I think that was when I started fooling myself into thinking that there was something more behind your concern as my best friend.

But there were also times when you would make me worry. You were always the dependent older brother so you didn't get into trouble a lot, but when you did, you definitely made sure it was nothing small.

Do you remember that fight you got into with one of the guys in our class?

I can't even remember what it was about or who the other guy was.

We were seat mates at the time and you were fuming beside me with a scowl I've never seen you wear before.

Not knowing what I should say, I could only tell you to calm down and to not lose your temper.

But you sure do know how to put someone on edge.

The other guy had publicly challenged you to a fight after class and you were dying to give him a piece of your fist.

"Do you really have to go?" I asked you quietly, trying to keep my voice lower than the teacher's.

You frowned and looked at me from the edges of your eyes, "Of course I do, he challenged me in front of everyone. You expect me to back down and chicken out?"

I caught movement from the corner of my eyes and saw that you had slipped a pair of scissors into your pocket. I had looked at you like you've gone mad.

I leaned in and whisper-yelled, "Are you crazy?! What are you gonna do with a pair of freaking scissors?"

"In case. You never know," you had said. 

Although a small part of me had thought, "I wouldn't be surprised if the other guy tried to play dirty," I still freaked out.

"Fine, okay. What's your plan? Stab the guy to death?" I asked sarcastically, losing my chill.

"I'm not going to use it unless I need to." Alex answered dismissively.

I chewed on my bottom lip as I stole another glance at his side profile.

"Do you really need to go?" I asked once again.

By that point, you were probably sick of that question.

I had rolled my eyes, thinking, "Boys and their gigantic egos."

"Fine, I'm going with you then." I insisted.

"No. Stay out of it. It's my problem, why are you getting involved? You're just gonna get hurt." You shot me down.

I frowned, "Obviously I won't jump in and fight with you, I'll just be your back up in case things escalate. You don't expect me to sit back and watch while you possibly get stabbed from the back with a pair of scissors, do you?" I hissed.

Alex looked at me exasperatedly, "Em, I am not going to get stabbed. Have a little faith, will you? I'm pretty sure I can beat him in a fight."

"How can you be so confident right now? I'm fucking panicking for you!" My fists grabbed onto a bunch of my uniform skirt to keep them from latching onto Alex and keeping him from going to the fight.

"Just trust me, I'll be fine." He had said.

Could you have possibly known how worried I was?

I mean I tell you to jump in and break out numerous fights between our classmates (even though you waved me off each time and tell me that it's more fun to watch instead) but I never expected you to get into a fight yourself and risk getting hurt.

Getting hurt.

I guess you had experienced worse pain than getting punched once or twice.

I should know. I've kept you company as you stayed up late at night thinking about your first love.

I blamed love for how you've changed and I hated love ever since.

But as I grew up and thought back about it, I realized that it wasn't love that did that to you. Hurt and betrayal did all that while love was what got you through it.

I've always claimed to have loved you as your best friend, a non-blood-related little sister who nags like a mom and annoys you like a sibling and looks out for you like a dad.

And I guess that was why I caged my feelings in and denied myself the right to have them.

I've lost sense of what kind of love I had for you. I denied them for so long that I'm not sure of what I thought I felt for you anymore.

But whatever it was, I never once wanted to make you mine.

Seeing you happy was sufficient and knowing you were with someone else didn't hurt as much as people say it would have if I had loved you the way they suspected me to.

That was probably why I was able to keep my distance from you when you finally lived through your first love experience.

You sure didn't make it easy for me to keep that distance, though.

"Wait, hold on, so you're on a date with Hannah right now?" I texted you, looking at the time.

"Yep. More like a double date." You replied. I could almost make out your nonchalant tone.

"Idiot. What are you doing chatting with me then?" If you were anywhere near me, I would've whacked you upside the head for being stupid at that moment.

"It's okay, we're watching a movie but it's boring so you're gonna keep me company." You had texted as if you were telling me the sky is blue.

My eyebrows shot to the sky as I read your text. "Excuse you?"

"Oh hell no, buddy. You're on a date. You do realize that although I'm your best friend and I act like a dude, I'm still a girl? No girl is going to be happy when your boyfriend chats with another girl during your date." I ranted slash lectured.

Your text had sounded desperate, "Oh come on, Em. She's not even giving me any attention. The movie is boring and she's hugging her friend. I'm bored!"

I had laughed at your expense, imagining you sitting on her side, sitting straight and completely neglected.

"Still," I typed, "I'm turning off my phone so you won't be tempted to text me for the next 5 hours. Your date should be over by then right?"

This time, you went all out and begged me," No no no, please Em. I'll die out of boredom. Have some pity, be a good best friend and keep me company. Please? Please?"

I laughed, a laugh that might've came out slightly evil, as I bid you farewell for the next 5 hours and turned off my phone.

I left my phone under my pillow and busied myself that day to keep myself from turning on my phone and checking in on you.

I think it took me a while to realize that I felt something more for you than a best friend should.

Every time we said we loved each other, I had to remind myself that we meant it as best friends would.

One of our old classmates had asked me recently if I used to like you back then.

It's been 4 years or so since our friendship came to an end and I still couldn't give him a sure answer.

And days after being unable to answer that question, I'm forced to admit that I was probably a fallen tree that had given away under the pressure of the strong wind.

∞ ∾ ∞ ∾ ∞

I put down my pencil and took a look at the few pieces of paper it took me to get everything off my chest.

The rain outside had slowed to a light rhythmic tap on my window.

I took another look at what I've written, letting myself get immersed in the flashing images each word brought.

My heart took a dive as the memories of how we'd laugh together over our silly jokes took over my mind.

I cracked a smile as the first tear dropped.

A sob rose from my chest and escaped my lips as more tears fell.

This was the first time in 4 years that I cried over the loss of my best friend. The severance of our friendship was so gradual that I had no significant moment to mourn.

When I got into a fight with a friend, you had sat beside me in class and noticed that I was troubled even when the fight was over and the matter between us was solved. You told me to look over to where the other girl was and watch how she wasn't even bothered by it anymore.

You said, "If she's not thinking about it anymore, why should you?"

And those words stayed with me as I watched you live freely, never looking back.

But the longing of meeting my best friend again stayed and hovered over me like a lingering dark shadow although I knew he was gone.

In his place was a guy I didn't recognize.

And I think that hurt the most.

The fact that I'll never get to see my best friend again to say a proper goodbye.

I looked down at the papers on my desk through the tears in my eyes, each covered with my writing. I picked up my pencil to write one last thing to close our story.

So here's my goodbye.

Goodbye, best friend.

----------

Sorry for the really late update guys. I was really confused on how to close this chapter.

I know it's not the most joyful ending but I hope that you guys enjoyed the story.

Thank you for sticking with me to the end as I was writing this story, it really means a lot to me.

I hope you guys have a good week!

Love,

-J