Then there were the in-between friends. You know them, the friends I made in the time between our separation and eventual reunion. I was pretty sad then and you could see that in the friends I made. Carefree, wild ones, party animals who only cared about where the next party was. I wouldn't say I was like them. Sure I went to the parties, I did many stupid things, even hooked up with a few forgettable faces, but deep down inside I was always the same person. The same sad lonely person who missed you in a room full of people, the same lost soul who cried for you every night and never forgot you even during all those years. But I never had hope, I always thought you and I were a closed chapter, a forgotten time in the history of our short lives. I mourned for us, for our lost love, for what I thought could be a great thing. But all we did was fade away. Until the memory of your face becomes hazy, until I could no longer remember your voice, until I forgot how your hands felt on mine.
I was fine. I went on with my life, made peace with myself and tried to bring some order to the chaos I had created. I was happy, life was good, and there were days when I didn't think of you. I dropped my in-between friends, severed connections with all our common friends, threw away all your things and listened to our songs without crying. In fact, I sang along.
And one fine day, you came back into my life. You just walked in and said hello and talked about the weather and decided to be my friend. No apologies, no explanations. You returned with your beautiful smile and mesmerising eyes and suddenly all the memories that I had locked away came loose. For a moment I was unable to speak, I just stared at you, but you didn't notice that, did you? You looked at my playlist and laughed at some of the songs, added your own songs telling me they were beautiful and how had I lived this long without listening to them? You acted as if you see me everyday, as if the last three years never happened and it was yesterday since we last met. You borrowed my books without asking; you know very well I never lend my books to anyone. You knew you were the exception. You didn't have to say anything, and I knew better than to say anything. You left, and we both know you would be back.