I can still remember how I prepared for this day two years ago. I avoided smoking for a week just to save enough money for that phone call, only to sing you a happy birthday at exactly twelve midnight. I can’t vividly picture your reaction but based on the tone of your voice, I can say that you’re happy with it. I can also still remember how you returned the favor by calling me at 2:00am on my birthday. I would have appreciated it more though if you weren’t drunk and didn’t start crying after three minutes. Funny how two years felt like a score in my world. You grow up so fast I can’t catch up. I’m like a twelve year old kid compared to you now. Maybe I should start calling you “ate”. 

Can you still remember how we became best friends back in high school? You were like “I want him out of my life” and I was like “I’ll help you with that”. It’s funny because it almost felt like we’re only closer when you are brokenhearted. I don’t blame you, I volunteered for the job. And as the way things are now, I guess there’s really no need for me to be in the picture. Don’t take it the wrong way; I’m very happy for you. You managed to move on with your life and find happiness. It’s something that I have yet to learn. And all the more reason for me to call you “ate”.

Anyways, happy birthday to my dearest, ugly best friend! I really do hope that we still are best friends even due to the evident lack of communication between us.

P.S. Don’t expect me to initiate conversation. My towering pride is still indestructible even if I miss you. And yes, I miss you.

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