She was walking at least ten feet ahead of me, distancing herself considerably. Her head was down and I couldn’t see her face through her bleached hair as it danced around her in the early autumn wind. Maybe she couldn’t hear my heavy sighs over the traffic and maybe she couldn’t tell that the shine in my eyes was from tears. Or maybe she didn’t care.

We had been best friends and now I felt I was losing her. Our conversations had been replaced with dirty looks and smiles covered up with excuses. I tried to talk, but each vowel was choked by tears. She would only look at me apathetically and keep going. Was this a punishment? What had I done? Why was I not good enough? Each question was sealed into a sigh that erupted from my lips like a prayer, hoping it would carry to her on the chilly air, and she would understand.

But there was no understanding in her. She kept walking, as always, farther away. I could only bite my lip and wonder why and question life and blink away the tears and breathe ... I could only live. I could only live as I watched my best friend walk away from my life, me without control, trying to hold her like I was trying to hold the air. I was speechless, to say the least.