History, a Story

Our forever (or long enough) friends know our history.

Not that we want to escape from it, but, our forever (or long enough) friends will always see us through that.
If they love the old us, when we changed, it could be a mistake.
If they hate the old us, when we changed, they’ll worry that we might come back as we were.

For our forever (or long enough) friends, years that passed are everything.
We might move on from it, regret or learn from it, but none of us would forget.
Good times, laugh, stupidity, long walk out of boredom, stories that has no endings, tears that no one mustn’t see, silly games, birthday celebrations, hopes that never come true, names that we always tell to each to other, plans that are failed to perform, trip to escape reality for a few days, and another days we don’t count but happened.

Sometimes, talking is hard.
Our forever (or long enough) friends know our traumas, and hide them from us because they don’t want us to be in pain. We just stop learn from it. We run from its reality.
Or make a joke about it. As if it’s funny. As if we could laugh about it.
They know how to calm us down, and will always remember the words. So they can always tell us things we want to hear, because it’s easier.

They know how to stop us from talking.

Our forever (or long enough) friends could understand, but after long enough, all they do is understand, accept.
They don’t ask questions anymore.
They don’t see, anymore.
Understand.
Accept us, the way we are.
That’s what friends are for.

And there are times in our life, we don’t know, whether we like it or not.

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