Your monologues fill the available time
My responses shrink to a trickle of canned words
Your life a reality TV show starring yourself
I search for the pause button every once in a while
Yet I refuse to look away, I’m ready for the next season
And that makes me complicit
My attention boosts your ratings.
Growing apart happens a millimeter at a time
We talked every day and I didn’t notice the distance had grown
Until I looked down at where our roots are intertwined
And wondered how your flowers have bloomed so far away from mine?
We don’t share the same vocabulary
I don’t laugh at your stories the way I once did
Our reserve of inside jokes is drying up
The worst part: your blind spots are big as a circus tent
You hate on shallow attention-seekers
But what makes your Instagram grid any different?
And don’t get me started on you and men
The double standard you cling to should be satire
How can you manifest loyalty when you are so un-loyal?
He glanced at the notification on my phone
A text from you, written in stolen slang
He said seven simple words in the form of a question:
How can you be friends with her?
He was puzzled. Perplexed. Not trying to meddle with our friendship, just genuinely wondering:
I know, I KNOW! But I don’t know…
is this merely a temporary misalignment of our values?
Words like “balance” and “boundaries” bounce around in my brain
They become theoretical concepts the moment your name appears on my screen
You annoy me, but I love you
I roll my eyes yet bend over backwards for you
That makes you less a friend, and more the sister I always wished for
Maybe you don’t see the distance between us
And that’s my fault because I always lean in
I try to shrink the space instead of letting it be
Because I don’t know the art of growing apart.