Letter to an ex lover former friend 2

I have a scar on my wrist, less visible than it was.

Earlier this year you told me it was a 'cat scratch' and dismissed it. It didn't hurt. I still don't know how I got it. It was just there, bloody and red. Bold, painless.

After we decided our friendship was at an end, I thought 'by the time this fades, I will have forgotten about you'. It's still there, less so than before.

Still.

Each time I think you are in my past, your name appears in unexpected places.

Your voice has interrupted my day through radio 4. Your name has appeared in professional circles. Your county appears in my work conversations, them knowing I know a little of the region and some of its players. I can't not make a recommendation if I need to when the question comes round in earnest, there is a bigger picture of community well being that I cannot be selfish about.

This evening, over a casual and unexpected drink, a mutual acquaintance told me he'd met my friend.

But, you're no longer my friend. You're no longer the person who gets my inner geek and is excited about all those things.

You're no longer the person I trusted with my heartfelt sadnesses, silence and dreams.

There are many we meet and pass time with. There are many we meet and whose company is to be enjoyed, embraced even. There are few, however, we trust easily. There are few who understand. You were one of those few, I thought. My naivete perhaps.

You are one of the few, fortunately, who have betrayed my friendship, my trust, hurt me.

You are someone who the thought of makes me sad that you are no longer part of my life.

Will I always have a scar?  Do you even care?