Is it too late now to say sorry?

It was one of the few instances in my life that I realised that “sorry” wasn’t really enough. And as much as I wanted to blame her for not understanding where I was coming from, I could not— because more than knowing that I played a part in our hullabaloo, realising how blame would make the distance grow farther frightened me— at least the girl that I was when all this happened.  

As her photos showed in my feed currently, I repeatedly asked my self, “Who is she? Where is the girl I loved some six-seven years before it all went down? What happened to the promise of best friends forever?” 

Truth be told, the answer was right in front of me— it was gone. It was a sad truth— how something so valued could be lost in an instant. There were times when I refused to believe that it is over, but when I look at us, the different lives we have, the coldness in between us, and the apathy that radiates from her, I lose everything that I have been holding on— the secrets, the laughters, the trips, the dreams…

As I overthink again, I realised that between accepting what happened and the existing reality of how we are over as best friends forever, I become heedless. And I think it is better. 

 

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