Photo by yours truly taken from Gardens By The Bay in Singapore.

You were never.

We made it a point to call each other best friends when lately, we’re not even so much as friends to begin with.

You were never the first person on my mind whenever I had problems.

You’re a closed book.

I vividly remember you telling me this. And maybe it’s true.

I never wanted to share with you my troubles- solely because venting it out to you never really made me feel better anyways.

I wasn’t a perfect friend either.

We were never comfortable around each other – there was always this long awkward silence between us when we hang out. I’ve always thought that that was our special thing; thinking about it now it’s just fucking weird. Us calling each other best friends when really we know shit about each other.

We’ve been putting this off for awhile – when in reality we knew this was bound to happen eventually.

Even lovers break up and move on, what more normal friends?

Our happiness just isn’t with each other anymore.

Along the way, we’ve lost the connection with each other and we’re struggling trying to find it back.

You’re happy with your life and I am sublimely happy with mine.

There isn’t any space for me in your life and neither is there in mine for you.

There’s just no changing that.

Maybe someday when we’re older and wiser, with kids of our own, maybe by then hopefully, He’ll open up our hearts and we’ll learn to love each other all over again.

But until then, I wish nothing but the best for you.

I never once regretted these 9 years with you.

It was nice knowing you.

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