Ficlets

It’s been four months since I saw you, at one of our school’s last football games. You left early; the crowd made you uncomfortable. You bragged to me about your new school, and I took it with a smile; you’ve always been this way.

And now we stand here: me with my new friends, you with the one old friend you’ve seemed to keep up with. You are wearing eyeliner, which is smudged. I remember how you told me, at the beginning of the school year. Your new friends were playing some game, having fun which means so much less to me than you realize.

It resembles the makeup I wore in sixth grade, unpracticed. Middle school; the very reason you chose to abandon us. If only you knew how different it is here. A thousand times I’ve thought that you would like it here, you’d fit in here.

You are by no means a minority, but I don’t think you’ll ever take the time to realize this. It astounds me how much has changed, and how much is exactly the same.

It’s been four months, my friend; and we are worlds away.