Girls POV

I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried. I cried till there were no more tears left to cry. And then, when I was done, I just laid there on my bed. I thought about all the mistakes I had made. I thought about how my life would have been if I'd never meet her. How life would have been if she'd never left me. I wished she was here with me, to help ease the pain.

Eventually, I forced myself to get up. I walked to the bathroom, and stared at myself in the mirror. My blonde hair was a mess. Pieces of hair were sticking out from my bun all over the place. My mascara had run and was now in streaks down my face. I attempted to wipe it away but all I managed to do was smear it all over my once rosy cheeks. I looked at myself, I mean I really looked. My clothes were wrinkled from lying down in bed. My lipstick was smeared all over my chin. I looked at my eyes. They were once a vibrant blue, glittering with happiness and mischief. Now they were dull, full of sadness, and full of tears that refused to fall. 

I looked away. I didn't want to see how much I had changed since she had left. It had been years, but I still missed her. I missed her laugh, the way her dimples formed when she smiled. She was my childhood best friend. And then she left. She left me and went to her fancy collage in the states. I know that we had to grow up one day, but it still hurt. 

The more I reminisced, the more the tears threatened to fall once more. But I couldn't cry again, not over her. She had made her decision, now I have to make mine. I walked over to my desk and pulled out the stack of letters. Every time I cried, I wrote a letter to the person who had made me cry. Stacks of letters to ex boyfriends, my high school bully, and of course, to her. Her stack was the biggest. 

I sat down at my desk. With a new piece of paper, and a pencil, I started to write. I wrote about how I missed her, how I wished she was here to help me. The more I wrote, the better I felt. When I was done, I sealed the letter, and shoved the letter back in the drawer. It wasn't like I was actually going to send it anyways. Sometimes, I just liked to re-read them late at night.  

I was exhausted from all the crying and writing. I glanced at the clock and saw it was three in the morning. I decided to go to bed. Eventually I fell into a dreamless sleep. Already dreading the day that that hadn't started. 

One thought swirling through my head. 

I MISS HER

Friends POV

My life was perfect. Or at least to everyone else it was. I was a straight A student, in the perfect  relationship, with the perfect boyfriend, the best friends in the world and no enemies. 

Yet still, late at night, when my mind would wander, I still thought about her. She was my childhood best friend. The only person who supported me through it all. The only person who was always there for me. And yet, I left her. I left her, I went to college and I forgot about the person who was once my best friend. Well almost, I almost forgot about her. I still think about her. Whether it's during one of the many lectures I have everyday, or even when I'm doing something as simple as writing a shopping list, my mind would betray me, and drift towards her. 

It was late at night. My boyfriend had his arm around my waist, holding me against his chest. I could hear his breaths, they were slow and controlled, letting me know he was asleep. Any normal girl would have loved to be in my place, in the arms of the man she loved, who loved her back. And yet here I was, lying awake, thinking about the past. 

I glanced around the room, looking for anything that could distract me from the lump in my throat. Anything that would keep the tears from falling. I couldn't cry, not here, not now. I would wake him up. He would ask what was wrong, and I wouldn't be able to tell him. I don't even think I know myself. That when my eyes fell upon my desk.

I remembered my friend's habit. Every time she cried, she would write a letter to the person who made her cry. I wondered if she still did it. I hope she did, she always did have a way with words. 

I slowly got up, carefully removing my boyfriend's arm from my waist. I walked over to my desk. Pulled the chair out and sat down. I opened up the draw, making sure not to make any noise, and got a piece of paper. Then, I wrote.

I wrote about how much I missed her. I missed the way her blonde hair was always flowing down her back. I missed the way her eyes would light up when she smiled. I missed the way she could always make me laugh. I missed her. Only when I was done did I realise I had been crying the whole time. 

“What are you doing?’ I jumped at the sound of my boyfriend's voice. 

“Nothing”

“Come back to bed baby” 

I wiped away the tears before he noticed. Quickly I put the letter away, and went to our bed. His arm around me wasn't an inviting feeling, for once it actually felt like a prison. Holding me there. I felt like I couldn't breath. Like the tears were drowning me, preventing me from sleeping. 

I laid awake for hours. I glanced at the clock, it was three in the morning. Eventually I fell asleep.

One thought swirling through my head. 

I MISS HER