We played dress up, did girly things, ate lots of food and laughed day and night.
Everything is different now.
We are no longer 6, but 10 years older.
We dress up, but it’s changed; I dress to satisfy myself and my own interests, you dress for him, for her.
We do girly things, but it’s changed; I paint my nails and toes as you complain about guys and why he left you.
We eat, but it’s different; I’m uncontrollable around food, you’re on a diet, pinching your sides but you realize you’re 120 lbs.
We laugh but I feel more pain; I love being happy and carefree…but all you do is cry and complain.
How I wish I could have held onto you when I noticed you changing, but it’s not my job to do so.
We have grown apart but I will always miss you.
Not YOU, her. That young girl who smiled and didn’t care if she snorted and lost control of sanity.
I want your old self back, but she’s gone, packed away with the rest of your memories,
Packed away with me. Gone.

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