People change. She knew this, and yet she hated it. She found it weird, though, because she was very sure she had changed over the years as well. She wondered if her friends felt the same way about her now as she did about George. The disappointment that plucked at her heart whenever she read his tweets, the awkward silences that plagued their meet-ups. She supposed that their friendship had gone on longer and far better than anyone would have expected, considering the circumstances that surrounded it.
She first met him through a mutual friend, a "friend" she no longer spoke to or, to put it crudely, gave a shit about. During that time, she was always used by her friend as the third wheel, asked to follow them on outings so that if things got weird, she would step in and help them move things along. She was oddly alright with this arrangement, because she figured she was doing them both a favour by helping them get together. Then, things started to go wrong.
She got to know him through a friend, had wanted to keep him as an acquaintance, but she found herself becoming closer to him, becoming an actual friend and not just the middleman. The inevitable eventually happened -- she started to care for him. Hence, when her friend started to treat him badly, started to ignore him for reasons unknown (and which she never thought to ask), she got upset, protective. Her friendship with the mutual friend got strained, and as time went by, it spread so thin it felt ridiculous to continue grasping at it. So, she let it go, reluctantly.
She and George got closer, so close that people talked about them, so close that speculations were fueled about a possible relationship. She was aware of this, yet she chose to ignore it because she knew, deep down, that she had no romantic feelings for him. During the horrible times she went through in school, he was her rock, one of the few people she trusted enough to be honest with. It was mainly because she trusted him so much that when he showed signs of change, she dismissed it as a reaction to the stressful environment they were both studying in.
Their first fight happened a week before her birthday, but it was a fight that had been in the making for the past few weeks before that. A new girl had entered his life, a girl she was wary about because, well, she was generally wary of everyone. She was acutely aware she had trust issues, and this probably impeded her view on this girl, but she didn't like, at all, that George and this girl were getting close. Whenever he told her about the girl, she would deliver a scathing remark which he never appreciated (and which she didn't expect him to). Yet, their discussions always stopped shy of an argument. It was as though both of them were trying their very best to test how deep the waters would run before one of them sank.
He sank first. Their fight was brief, angry. He was upset at her tone (how do you even read tone in a text?) and took offense at her insinuations that he spent more time with the new girl than the old friend. She had reached the point of jadedness, didn't want to care anymore. They didn't speak for a week after that, and when he approached her on what was supposed to be a good day for her (she never understood why birthdays were supposed to be so), she wasn't prepared for any reaction other than pure, unadulterated anger. She spent her birthday celebration in the toilet, crying because she was so painfully aware that even though he cared, she cared a lot more.
Yet, as quite a number of friendships go, they made up. But things were never the same, would never be the same. Most of his gestures seemed forced, pondered, as though he was trying too hard at things he never used to even think about. They grew apart as he and the new girl officially became a couple. They stopped spending time together, stopped keeping tabs on what went on in each other's lives. And just like that, an amazing friendship was lost.
She supposed that, at the end of the day, she was the intermission, the friend that was there when he didn't have someone else to occupy his time. She would be upset, except that they had a good run and their shared memories were, at least to her, treasured. Did she hope, that someday, he would become the guy she first knew? Well, of course. But as she had learnt over the years, hope is a paper boat that sinks. She figured it was better to move on, explore what else the world had for her. And if somewhere down the line, that involved him again, then maybe, maybe, their story would continue.
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