What if

I once knew a girl very well. I could talk to her about anything. We would always be together, even when we had nothing to say. We would sit in the bus, sometimes holding hands, sometimes resting our heads on each other's shoulders, sometimes giggling about guys, sometimes talking, sometimes not. She was small and petite, I was tall(er) and lean. She studied life, I studied money. Her hair was long and curly, mine was short and wavy. She was vegetarian, I was not. Yet, somehow, we cancelled each other out and tethered to one another like two strong magnets. 

Over the years, I wouldn't say it was a smooth ride. We had our fair share of fights. I think that’s what made our relationship so genuine I could call her my sister. 

But sisters don’t stop talking because of physical distance. They never grow apart. So why did we? It makes me question how strong our bond was. 

Could we have survived changing countries? I think so. If we tried. Is it too late to mend what we broke? Not if we both wanted to fix it. But do we want to? I want to. Does she? I think not. Every time we talk about our friendship, it sounds like a chapter that’s been closed. But if she’s at peace with it, I should be too. 

Now I’m sitting here, bathing in regret, thinking “what if...?”