better this way

we are still together, perhaps, in how we traverse into the comfortable

the easier, the simpler, the better this way—the pretty words we tell ourselves to justify our jagged lives

even as we cross the same sidewalk paths, steep and steady, sweat shed with the effort to keep moving—

move on, move away, move forward, never backward, never into each other—

no collision

no connection

no longer

but it’s better this way—easier, simpler, to shy our eyes, to forget what we were once when we were young and knew nothing but joy and ease

hand in hand, smiling into each other’s faces with a blissful glee—you the leader, me your biggest fan, your cheerleader, your willful subordinate

i still remember how the summer sun gleamed down on your golden head like a halo

i wish i could press my palm to it to feel that scorching warmth, the smooth, searing freedom of you

distant memories come and go, fading like daylight, blurring like dreams—

your soccer net in the backyard, the high, creaking stairs of your home, a wet pair of my goggles on your poolside

i remember your smile, wide and large, your hysterical laugh when you couldn’t catch your breath

the feel of your hug tight around me, our promise of friendship forevermore—

and now you don’t see me

and i don’t see you

but it’s better this way

easier, simpler

to stay away, to keep to ourselves, to avoid those hellos and how are yous of vicious insignificance

avoiding all unspoken thoughts and judgments and fears—i don’t know yours, but i know my own

did it mean nothing?

is childhood just an illusion, a fragment of joy serving as incitement for current misery?

am i a fool for thinking about how much it hurts not to see you? for how pathetic i feel, acting like it doesn’t wrench my heart in two to know you no longer?

the cold, aloof part of me tells me that i don’t miss you, it doesn’t matter

but i know what a lie looks like, especially to myself

reminiscence—it is both nothing and the death of me

glamorized memories probe at the mind too strongly, too strangely to make sense of us

it’s unfair to glorify the you of the past, reigning as eternal thirteen year old queen

brimming with confidence, overflowing me with your easy, contagious happiness

even though we won’t meet gazes anymore, a part of me still lives there with you

on your wooden floor in your room as you speak at me

and i take it all in with a bleeding heart, a secret smile, a sense of belonging i thought i found, but didn’t deserve

adulthood—

this stupid, sacred realm we find ourselves in, three steps into different worlds before a jolt-like stumble into strangers

what held us together? what glue stuck me to your side?

what knife wrenched me off and away from you into my own abode, and you into yours, never to share another word, another thought, another inkling of connection?

with each year that passes, i doubt what you were, what you are, who you are—who i was, what we ever were

and i resent you, and myself

for no real reason at all

but still, it’s better this way

it’s easier

simpler

to see us now, older, wiser, with more pain in our bones—grown apart, wrenched away, and just too different to know each other anymore

still, i think of you

how do you feel about summer? do you still love to swim, to play? is your creative mind still as it was?

are you still a leader? do you want to be good or great? what motivates you? what makes you fall?

what do we disagree on? what could we look past; what would make us fall apart?

how do you feel about the world? what is your worst case scenario for us?

how do you feel about that flag hanging in your parents’ yard, big and white and blue and bold-lettered, flaring viciously in the wind where less people can see?

what losses have you suffered that i wasn’t there for? do you still treasure kindness? do you treasure our memories like i do?

how would you feel about who i am if you knew me now?

how much would our differences matter if we stopped pretending not to see each other?

but we can’t, and we don’t

and it’s better this way

easier

simpler

to stick with what we think we know

and disregard it all

this is adulthood—not a playground, but the real world, where we will never speak again, where we will never share anything

anymore

i accepted this—even so, i passed you weeks ago on our block driving in my car

and i met your eyes without thinking,

and the smile that spread across my face as my heart throbbed was seamless, effortless, childlike in nature

as i took you in, beautiful and radiant, hair shining in the sunlight like it always did

and your smile in return hit me like a bullet—a wide beam that mirrored my own, and i think i knew then

that despite this charade, despite growing and changing, despite it all, that we were never nothing

and we were always something special, something important,

something that passed, but existed almost certainly, positively, without a doubt in my mind

we were always supposed to be where we are, whether separate or apart,

because we could never be disconnected, not fully—not ever

you could never be torn from me completely, not even in silence, not even in death

so i waved back at you

before i pressed down on the gas, and i watched you in my mirror

until you disappeared from view

—

A/N:

One of my very first poems I ever published on Vocal was about this very same old friend of mine; I’ll put it down below. I used the same picture too as a little tribute to the me of a year ago—hey, girl.

After revisiting it, it’s striking how much more pessimistic and harsh my previous poem was than this piece, and though I still maintain some thoughts and feelings from it, I am glad to see my outlook on my friend, and myself, in a much different, more nuanced light.

I got so emotional writing this new poem for some reason, my god. But good emotional, I think. If not all good, then a lot of good.

I feel both happy and proud of this piece, of a possible evolution into hope and healing, even if only mentally.

Childhood fades much too quickly, and it hurts. You are still very much the child you were, no matter what you’ve done or been through. To find that hope and kindness you once possessed with ease, or working on finding it, and to realize that you are still that little you and therefore should be treasured, is one of the most rewarding thing I’ve done in my adulthood.

Thank you so much for reading—stay open, stay hopeful, stay connected, and give yourselves some kindness and grace today. ♥️