Dear B,

Dear B,
Once on eight year old legs, grinning with a gap toothed toothed smile that showed only youth and innocence you told me that you’d seen people who looked like us- but older.
I wonder if they were before the fight or after. Before the rift or in a time we were torn apart. Before everything went to shit or after the end of us. 
I wonder if your bones didn’t show then, in those two people who you said were time travelers, I wonder if my hair was short. I wonder if I was a boy then, or if I still looked like a girl. 
I wonder. I wonder. I wonder. 
I wonder if they were us from the future and I wonder if there is a future for us, or if we are always destined to be an imploded star, a darkness where there was once light. 
Dear B, 
I wonder where we got lost, when we stopped laughing with each other, going to each other’s houses. I wonder when I started liking you as more than a friend, and I wonder when you stopped liking me as anything. I wonder when you turned all the fire that you’d used to smile at the world with inside and scowled at yourself instead. I wonder when you stopped eating. I wonder how I didn’t notice. 
I wonder how I let you go and I wonder how you let me go. 
Because we were best friends- forever you promised. 
You saw futures with us, laughing together, swimming together. 
Dear B, 
I wonder when we both agreed to go our separate ways, when we gave up on each other. I wonder when you decided we’d changed too much. I wonder if someday we can fix it. 
I don’t know anymore. 
I wonder. 
Dear B,
Dear B,
Dear B,
Oh how I wonder