Through the years, I suppose I must have gotten used to you. Like how I look up into the sky and expect to see the moon and stars every night, perhaps I expect you to stay my friend always.
It feels like we have known each other forever, yet how little I know about you. And that seems to be how I am with my friends. I can’t tell if you have grown taller or lost weight or highlighted your hair or bought a new bag. I’m bad with these things.
I know the person, and the person is who I remember. She’s the deep-thinker, he’s an adventure-seeker, she’s the impatient one, he doesn’t like cats… It’s almost as if I don’t look at you anymore… I just kind of get used to you being around.
Sorry. It is not on purpose that I may have taken you for granted.
I promise I will try my best to look harder the next time.
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