I have always been good at being a friend.

I remembered the birthdays and the favorites. I remembered the laughter and the tears.

I have always been better at being left behind.

I remember the waiting and the loneliness.  I remembered the laughter and the tears.

One.

You forgot your lunch on that third day in kindergarten and I shared my ham and cracker lunachable with you. You sat with me from that day on and we shared our love of butterflies. Into the third month of freshmen year I no longer liked ham and you no longer sat with me. You followed your love of boys while I had my love of books.

Two.

Splashing in the water of the over chlorinated pool I counted to ten before dunking my head into the water. Swimming blindly, my lungs burning I popped put of the water yelled’ “Marco” to be met with an unnerving silence. I waved my hands through the water until I called out again and this time I heard the mocking giggling from far away. Opening my eyes I saw you running out of the fenced area with better explorers then Marco Polo.

Three.

The first time we spoke was in Biology class. The last time you spoke to me was when you said chemistry with your boyfriend was better.

Four.

We defeated the melodramas of middleschool. We conquered the defeat of losing our friend to boys and drugs. But lost when you decided the way I wanted to read was too boring when you wanted to party. When you decided the way I wave my hand when I ask for the check was to arrogant. When you decided that sitting with me was not fun anymore.

Five.

I do not like ham anymore. Not because of the you,but the aftertaste of the forgotten laughter and tears. Because I remember.