'{Today was a lonely day.

& Tonight was a lonely night.

I wish I had another good friend

or someone like a boyfriend

to hang out with.

But even then, it wouldn't

be the same.}'

I'm not as sad as I usually get when I think about Tany.

But all the same, I'm kind of sad.

It just kind of hit me.

Like, I was walking the dog for a second time today at around 9,

and I was just thinking: "Man, I miss her. If we were friends, we would be in my room right now. LOLing about how she bit someone during hit the lights set at the last concert and staying up late to talk about all the fun we'd have at Marianas Trench tomorrow."

And I can't help but think about all the late night talks about stupid things.

Grilled Cheese, and how Shamay treated her before.

There was one story I'd always get her to tell.

It'd be like this:

Me:"Tell me the one about Shamay dancing in front of the window and then her mom smacks her."

Her:"K.

So, shamay would like, for no reason, just start dancing infront of the window in her bedroom.

In like, her underwear and the window open and stuff."

Me: *lols*

Her: "And then Judy comes in, and is like "what are you doing shamay!"

Me: *LOLS*

Her: "And smacks her, and is like going on a big speech about stuff. And shamay is just like "That didn't hurt!" and her mom does it again. And then shamay is crying and stuff, and it was just so stupid. And me and teasha were laughing."

It's not actually that funny.

It's the way she told it,

and how mean shamay always was

and how she always did stupid things like

dance around naked for all the neighbours to see.

And I miss the things we'd say before we fell asleep.

And all the jokes we had.

Like, about pat brown.

And how she once asked me to read her a recipe out of a cookbook for a bedtime story,

so we'd always say "Thickens and boils" because that was what the book said about something

when you cook this raspberry sauce.

She's allergic to raspberries.

No one knew that for a long time, not even her.

I'm not allowed to call her, or else I would.

Her brother phoned here after last time and asked why

I kept phoning.

I really don't like her brother at all.

He's stubborn and he doesn't listen.

And he's stupid, he thought she was 13.

I remember how we were walking once.

it was late, and I was walking her part way home.

It was when she first wanted to be a snob, and I was trying to

tell her things about it. We had thoughts about going back to school in

a few years, and not even bothering with anyone, and being stuck-up bitches

that every one would envy because we'd be mysterious and well-dressed, and we'd speak in whispers.

We were running down my street, yelling things like "Spot of tea!"

and Gowri kept saying "mate" even though we were trying to be british-ey and

that always seems more austrailian, to me.

Sometimes I dream about maybe seeing her again sometime.

Maybe a few years in the future,

we'll run into each other, or she'll look for me and we'll end up being friends again.

It's sad to talk about these things, and I've ended up making myself cry.

But I need to. I just need to get it all out, and I'll be better.

Because I know I can be strong, and I know that sometimes they'll be times like these,

and I'm just going to have to cry and feel awful, because that's how life is.

I miss the things that she would always say,and the way that she would say them.

Like how I would tell her about something funny, and she would just laugh and say "That's funny." and then we'd talk about it somemore because she'd make comments on it and kind of explain how she thought it was funny, and we'd agree and LOL somemore.

I remember when we got our PSPs, and how we always felt cool for being matching, and how fun it was to look in the games ailes and weigh the pros and cons about what to get.

I think about all the things of hers I have, and all the things she has of mine.

One of my tops, and my zooyork sweater. Probably a bunch of other things, too.

And I wonder if they're at her new house, or with her mom.

I wonder if she ever thinks about me.

I wonder if she hates me, or if she's sad.

I wonder if I was a bad friend.

I just...it's hard.

We were so alike, and we spent so much time together,

and we shared everything and knew pretty much everything about each

other.

I wish I could share lookbook with her, and all the music I've discovered that I know

would be something she would be interested in.

Like BoA, The Bird and The Bee...

so many things.

So, so many things.

I miss singing, she always liked to hear me.

Now, I sing for myself.

And it doesn't usually feel as natural.

But it's comforting.

I sing or whisper to myself the words of all my favourite songs.

And it's like that one bright eyes song.

'The sound of loneliness makes me happier'

It makes me feel brave.

Brave enough to keep going, and brave enough to remember

and not just forget her.

But talking about that makes me feel like she's dead.

Sometimes, that'd almost be easier.

Just because it would just be over.

I wouldn't have to wonder what she was doing,

or what she thought or any other countless things.

But I would never want her to die, of course.

She was my bestfriend, we were close like sisters, and

I loved her like one.

Being on the train is always harder, too.

I'm even more afraid of it now then I was before.

Going over the bridge, and watching the world seem so far below even when we're just going across the city. It's harder because she isn't there to tell me it's stupid for being afraid,

and to distract me. Because it was always us that went on the train.

We used to go so many places.

But I can't think about it anymore.

I'm getting a headache, my face hurts from all the tears.

I'm going to settle myself down,

listen to some Sea Wolf because it's calming, and maybe draw a picture.

If I do the latter, I'll post it up.