Joe and I were inseparable. We did everything together. We drew with chalk, fought dragons, rescued the princess, and stormed the castle. We fought the monsters, the broccoli, and the dreaded nap time. We had six strong years together, filled with fun, adventure, and friendship. When he was six, Joe left me to go to school, and he never truly came back.

Our favorite thing was to play soccer together, but after that day, he would always ditch me to play with his dad. Soon enough, he stopped inviting me to his games, but that never stopped me. I went because I wanted him to know that I was always there for him. Joe’s soccer career was promising. He played youth, middle-school, and high school varsity soccer. I must have been asleep though, because those years seemed to fly-by.

Joe went through a lot in his senior year. When his father died of lung cancer I was his only shoulder to cry on, but he never leant on it. When his ACL tore I was there at the surgery, but he never opened my card. When his soccer ball popped I got him a new one, but he never opened the box. After that, I suddenly got the meaning behind Joe’s permanent cold-shoulder. He didn’t need me anymore. My world shattered and started to turn grey. The knowledge of his abandonment destroyed me, and I could feel the pieces of our friendship start to crack and fall like the glass in a broken mirror. I called out to him, but his phone seemed to be more important than our fading friendship. It started to pour grey rain, but he didn’t notice. I started to fade, first my feet, then my chest, until my head and shoulders were the only things left. I begged him to remember, but he just started at his phone. Then I was gone.