14 Oct

Sometimes I think of Meg. I click on her name in Facebook and look through all her recent photos and make a game out of remembering how we were once very close. I used to like her red jacket, the one with the white stripe on each sleeve, and the way I could rely on seeing it at least every other day. But she has new clothes now, clothes I’ve never seen, clothes she wouldn’t have worn seven years ago when we ate Taco Bell together on the carpeted floors in the Campus Center lounge. We spent a lot of time finding things we had in common: drawing, The Strokes, our grisly mental states, and The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, I guess. I hated that she hated her mom, hated Jesus, talked about hating them, and really seemed to hate them, but there are pictures on her profile now that lead me to believe she and her mom are fine now. Can’t say she likes Jesus any more, but he’s given her a better boyfriend, an enjoyable career, and the means to travel, I think. I think. Meg was always pretty. Still is pretty. Prettier, even, and I wonder if she knows it. I hate it. I miss her sometimes, wonder if she remembers writing me, concerned during 11th grade English, when I was sad and wanted to die. I think she really cared. I think we were actually friends. Real friends. And that I no longer have that, us, makes me think I should miss it more than I make myself despise her for leaving me, for being more concerned about a boy I’m not even sure she likes anymore. From what I see online, it doesn’t seem that she’s bothered by me, by anything I do or say to no one in particular on Facebook. And even though I hardly think of her myself, I’d like Meg to remember me on occasion, to wish the gaps between us were smaller, to hope that I haven’t forgotten that I used to care for her too.


One Response to “cybernetics”

  1. kdunn5372 October 15, 2012 at 9:43 pm #

    Have you thought about contacting her at all? Maybe just to say hi and to ask her how she it?

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