I remember the first time I met you. We were both 2 years old. We were both oblivious to the future and ignorant to the rest of it. We were born in the same hospital. Our mothers met each other then. I was a month younger than you. Both blonde haired and blue eyed. At 2 years old, I met you. In nursery. We learnt the colours of the rainbow together. Red and yellow, and pink and blue…..I can see the rainbow too. You had other friends. I was shyer. I wanted to be your friend. At 4 years old, we went to the same primary school. You had a best friend there. I didn't. But we were small. Our year was small. Only 6 or 7 girls in a year. We were one group. We played lions, we played happy families. Our favourite game was Annie. You were always Annie. I was always Molly. Then your best friend left. That's when we became best friends. I was 5 then and you were 6. We never separated. We played, and sat together on the bus. People left and people came. Then the new girl started. She bullied us together. She called us names. And we both cried. Do you remember? When we were 8, another girl started. She caused trouble. I befriended her first. I went to her house. She came to mine.She stole my books. She lied about her things. But we were just children. We were one group of 9 year olds. And then came to trends. I introduced you to Barbies. You loved Ken. We played for hours. Then came the Polly Pockets. I remember how you set them all up in one of your big rooms. It had everything. It was all real. They were real. Nothing was impossible. I remember your house. We'd jump on the trampoline. We'd time travel in the wendy house. We'd be chased by monsters in the forest. We'd jump into your mini car and race away to your tennis court. Our sanctuary. We'd hide. Your dog would hunt us. Your cat would find us. Your brother would catch us. Your sister would follow us. Do you remember? The birthday parties? The sleepovers? Your jacussi. Your sauna? I thought you were so lucky. We'd watch the same TV and laugh at the same things. The next trend was sylvanians. I had the deer family. You loved them. You found your old grey rabbit one. We collected them and made up stories. When it was our turn to llok after the equipment shed, we'd play with them inside, and let our friends in. When someone knocked on the door, we'd jump and giggle. Next came the Tamogatchi. We lived their lives and cried when they died. Do you remember? The TY Beanie club? We were the founders. An easy test was created to enter. It made it seem exclusive, but everyone could pass it easy peasy. Then we got told off. Someone had told on us. We weren't allowed to use our ''imagination'' or ''creativity'' and we had to close the club. Finally, the Bratz. I loved Chloe best. You liked them all. We got older and learnt more. They were 'cool' and grownup. We tried new stories. experienced their problems, saw their difficulties. Do you remember? Then I was 10, and you were 11. We had just finished our second to last year of primary school. I left. I cried and complained. My parents went through a rough patch. I didn't understand. I couldn't understand. Why? My daddy left us for a bit. He cried. My mummy cried. My sister didn't know what they said. But I heard them shout. I'd curl under my duvet and cry. You didn't seem to care. At first, maybve you did, but then only I did. Do you remember when your daddy was away for a while? I kept your secret. I told you it'd be alright. Where were you? Where were you when my daddy left? We moved. I cried. I felt empty. I didn't want new. I didn't like change. I don't like change. I was stubborn. But my dadedy came back when we moved. We were together again. I only stayed at my new school for a year, when I was 11 and in the joining high school, I left. I hated it. And after all this time, I wanted to go back to the high school I would have gone to, I should have gone to, if I hadn't moved. We'd stayed in touch, me and you. We wrote letters, and when we got them, we texted on our new mobiles. I'd lost my confidence there though. I hadn't even tried. I expected it to be perfect when I went back. Now I know how oblivious I still were. Still am. Something else was building up. I didn't know what. I thought I'd be happy when I was back with you. I thought friends were friends. I didn't understand. I didn't know how to make new friends. I'd forgotten. No one taught me. I thought you'd understand. But it seems to me, that you relished in the thought of me being dependent on you. Alone. I couldn't argue with you and her. I had no choice. Or so I thought. I hated it even more now. My life. What had I done. Why did I keep making the wrong decisions. I cried. Do you remember? I am a cry baby. I can't help it. I wish you didn't see. But you let me down so many times. I think you pityied me. I was dumb, weak and stupid. I didn't see. Those 5 years were the worst so far. I developed my OCD, I became depressed. I was desperate. I couldn't deal with it. I had anxiety issues. I was paranoid. I was anti-social. I told you abut my OCD, my therapy, my medication. For once, you helped. I thought you understood. I told you everything. All my secrets. I trusted you. I told you what I did. What I saw. I told you about every therapy session. But one day, I realied my mistake. Trust. You told people. How could you? A girl warned me that everyone knew. And I do mean a lot of people. I cried there and then and ran into the toilets. This had become a recurring thing. Hiding. In the cubicles, I mean. I asked you calimly in form, when I saw you next. You looked away. Ashamed. I knew then. I hadn't been able to believe it. But I could see what you'd done. Why. How. What had made you. You walked away then. Leaving me to cry. Do you remember? Then I did what I shouldn't. I self harmed. Just a little. I'd heard people do it, boast about it. I didn't understand. But then I did. The pain. It stopped the other pains. It made me feel. I could see that I was real. I felt like I was disapparating into Nothing. Invisible. Dead. A ghost. A memory. But then I felt this. I could control it. The only thing I could. I could turn on and off. I hadn't been ready to find the messy thin, red lines in the morning. They stung bad. I was scared. Would they scar? My dad would lock me up. I wore long sleeved tops. Thank God no one saw. You didn't notice. I did it again. Everytime someone pointed or laughed. I was even more paranoid and anxious. But then you called and apologised. I said okay. I tried to forgive you. And I did manage to. Partly. But then I heard other things and checked that were the truth. Do you remember what you called me? A psyco. A freak. Mental. Loser. Stupid. Paranoid. Is it any wonder? I heard them. I saw it. You couldn't lie. You didn't see me behind you when you were making hand gestures: not swearing. It looked like you were washing your hands in the thin air. Mocking me. My OCD. People turned. They saw me. You looked away. Do you remember? Then you wrote things about me for everyone and anyone to see on social networking sites. Do you remember? You said I was too hard to be friends with. I was mad. You said you couldn't ''cope'' with me. You said it were my fault. I believed you. You told me I was irritating and annoying. You blamed it on my ''mental illness''. I said sorry. I apologised. You told me to go away. You swore at me for the first time. Do you remember? I do. You all continued to glare at me and laugh. Giggle and whisper. Smirk and glance. I'd cry and hurt myself over and over. It was just a cycle. A cycle of my life. You didn't see. I didn't see. We both couldn't see. I forgive you, ***** ****. I am sorry. I wish what turned out, didn't. Not like that. So, I turned 16. Time continued. Life did. I pulled the pieces back together and moved on, slowly, but steadily. Every now and again, I'd stumble and fall until I found something to grab onto. But now I have found the path. I'm back on track. I'm happy. I emailed you to say goodbye when we left school a month ago or so. I thought I should end it in a better way. A nicer way to remember. I didn't say much. Just a short goodbye. I wasn't sure what to expect back. If anything. But you replied. You told me you wouldn't forget your first real friend. I didn't reply. That was it. I won't ever see you again now. It's up to fate.You told me to have a good life. And I plan on now. I think what happened was for the best. Now, I think that anyway. I thought we'd be BFFs always, but that's a child's thought, a dream. A fantasy. Fiction. Now I understand reality. But I can and will still dream. I love you and always will. I don't know why. But you were my best friend, even if you aren't now.

So there. That's just a few memories. Good and bad. I can't decide which outweighs the other. The bad took place in a shorter amount of time. But they were so much more important. I don't know. But I don't need to now. I have accepted it. We have so many memories. Or we did. But time will pass, and I will forget. I hope to forget some. I still miss you. I don't know why. It will pass. Just because I miss you doesn't mean I won't forget. This is just for us. Just for you. You won't see it. Though I once showed you this site. I doubt you listened. This is just our small, insignifficant memory. If you ever saw it, you'd probably laugh. But I don't mind. I don't care much anymore. At least, not like I did. I'm still learning not to. No one teaches you. You learn yourself.

Do you remember?

I do.

Forever and always.