You're the only thing I know like the back of my head.

I was just cleaning up my room, going through stuff a bit, and I opened up my old box of letters and cards and other random things. It's not like it's the first time I've gone through that box, of course not. But it still stings a little bit when I come across two letters I've saved you'd written me. The ones that said you still wanted to be my friend. One, typed up in bold pink lettering. The other, you're unique handwriting across the stationary. I also found a post card, from our similar best bud? Yeah. She wrote too. I believe in all honesty I was a terrible friend. Still am, in fact.

In that box is also the birthday bubble envelope you sent your gift of milk duds in that first birthday. The first birthday without a sleepover and without a disposable Kodak. The first one where I didn't call you my best friend. It'd been a long time since I'd had a birthday like that.

Oh, it also contains miscellaneous scraps and cards from other people. Drawings from my old friend; birthday and Christmas and Valentines and Baptismal cards from a number of different persons; a hand out from a play I was in; friends in the paper; photographs that are a distant memory.

But it's only when it involves you that the memories sting. From the letters you wrote to the pictures we took; every little ounce of you from inside that box hurts. And it's all I have left of our friendship. We no long send each other letters. We no longer call each other up on the phone. We no longer take pictures and watch movies and get red cream soda and try to stay up as late as we can. No more barbies or house. No more Zac Efron obsessions and Ramon noodles.

Our scrapbooks aren't complete. And the scariest thing of all is that they may never be. I see you week after week, but we don't even say hi. Ignoring each other like we are total strangers. Like we never had inside jokes. Like we never spent countless memories. Like we never called each other best friends. To an outsider, you'd think we barely knew each other. To us, and to those involved, it's a painful memory.

I miss you. I miss you terribly. I wish that we were still friends and that I could come to you with my problems. I wish I knew what boys catch your eye and I didn't have to hear it from someone else. I wish everyone would consider us best friends again.

I wish a lot of things. And I wish, my wishes would come true.

......More on my best friend.