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My friends are special.
Very special.
I had a nice group of friends in high school.
We were four.
Four friends.
Then three.
I didn't mind.
She was not who we thought she was.
We didn't know her at all.
So we were three and all was good.
Very good.
One of them didn't like my poem.
The other is girly enough for the three of us.
She is a completely unconventional girl in a conventional package.
She looks like the four billion girls who love pink and thought that hell meant life without make-up.
She was so superficial; she made skin look like an internal organ.
Wow, what a bad simile but it works I think.
She is so "normal" on the outside.
But her ideas, personality and values made her one of the most interesting people I have ever met.
She is so different.
She is amazing.
She is special.
But she's so hard to keep in touch with.
She is always so busy.
So slippery.
I think I've lost her.
That makes me deeply sad.
She's still my friend.
The other third of our group.
The one that laughed.
She's also special but in a completely different way.
She's a very smart girl.
Her personality is strong and complex.
We can sit for hours without saying a word to each other.
We are completely comfortable in each other's company.
We've had our fights.
It's normal since we have almost 8 years of friendship.
8 years is a lot.
She's one of my dearest friends.
So we were three.
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