bereft.

I forgot for a minute that we were no longer friends. The detachment happened so swiftly that it still hadn’t sank in. I’m so used to sharing all of my best news with you first…second or third, depending upon my day’s mood. Knowing that when I heard your trademark “Speak.” on the other end of my line, my pulse would race with excitement. Skin feeling electrified simply from the timbre of your voice as you reveled in my joy and stroked my sometimes ailing ego.

I raised my phone to call to you, breathless with excitement, only to remember halfway through dialing, you don’t care to hear my voice. My name no longer passes through your lips, to linger on your tongue as if you’re savoring its flavor. Only an acrid taste remains.

Breathlessness turns to sadness, giving way to regret.

I forgot for a minute that we’re no longer friends…and it kills me.