Where the Talking Went

I saw a yellow bird today. It sat on the fence and sang. It made me think of you. You always said yellow was the happiest color. For just a second, my brain showed me your face, smiling.

It’s strange how we don’t talk anymore. I keep trying to find the day it happened. The last day. But there isn’t one. There was no big fight. No one got mad and slammed a door. We didn’t break, like a favorite toy. We just… faded.

Our talks got shorter. Then it was just a wave across the street. Then it was nothing. It was like we were walking home on two different paths. We just kept walking. And one day I looked back, and you were too far away to see. I wonder if you ever looked back for me.

I remember we made a promise once, with our pinkies locked together. We promised to be friends forever. I guess we didn't know how long forever was. I still remember how your hand felt. A little bit small.

I wonder if you still like the color yellow. I wonder if you have a new best friend who knows all your new secrets. Do you ever pick up your phone to tell me something and then stop? I do that sometimes. I just don’t know what I would say. "Hi" feels too small for all this quiet.

The space you left isn’t a big, sad hole. It’s just a quiet space. A little empty. I hope your new path is a good one. I hope it has lots of happy yellow things on it.