She was tall. She had brown hair. She was pretty. She and I did everything together. We laughed, we played, we sang and we drew. Her and I were each other’s other halves, knowing each other since young, saying together we’d grow old. Middle School was our glory days. Never leaving one another, almost to the extent of annoying our other friends. But then, we found someone. She too was tall, had brown hair and was pretty just as my other half was. Hannah I’ll call her. She became one of us. We laughed, we played, we sang, we drew. We saw each other every day and never thought of it as a burden, until Hannah started to change. She dressed differently, cut her hair, hung out with others that weren’t me. But I understood. She wasn’t us; only like us. Hannah wasn’t meant to stay in, only board for some time. I was okay; but then I was alone. She left me. Left me vulnerable with no one around, and no one to hold. No one to comfort, no one to laugh, no one to smile, and no one for me to love. But everyday I deal with my loss, pretending I don’t care whether or not she’s still out there. Because well, whether she comes back or not, I won’t be the same.