Broken Friends

He was my friend. We were complete opposites; the perfect complement to the other. He was free, and I was trapped within myself. Together, we were balanced. I thought we’d be friends forever. The two of us against the world.
Far too soon, I learned there are some things you can’t take back. And that once broken, there are some things that can never be mended, no matter how badly you may want to.
He was my friend, practically my brother. I loved him. Now he’s a stranger. I can still feel stabs of pain every time he passes by. I thought time might ease some of the hurt, the anger, the grief, the loneliness. I was wrong.
Hateful words loop through my mind like a broken record. The trouble with being so close was that we knew where to strike to inflict the most damage. The only thing left when we were done was a broken mess. No victor. No friendship.

Prompt: He was my friend.


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