You are not dead, but it sure feels like you aren’t living in my life. I still remember the day you told me you were moving, it was in the summer of 4th grade. We had been best friends for about 5 years, and I was heart broken that you were leaving. You kept in touch a lot though, and every opportunity you got, you invited me over for sleepovers. Every year that I came I would feel more distant from you, in my head I thought it made sense because you had a whole new life, new friends and new everything. But everything changed one summer. I still remember that day when I slept over at your house, we had such a good time. Everything was going so well, until the last day you decided that even though I can only visit once a year, you wanted to hang out with your crush and his friends. You wanted to drag me along to hang out with people I didn’t even know, and didn’t want to know. You may have thought I was being extremely difficult, but I just wanted to spend my last day with you. I don’t know what came over you, but you let me stay at your house by my self while you hung out with your crush and his friends. And to add to that you told me I could call my dad early to pick me up. I let you go, but I don’t regret it now. After I left your house I couldn’t help but feel that I was the bad person in this situation, I thought to my self, I should have just gone with you. Now I realize that it was worth letting you go because, if you truly wanted me there with you, you wouldn’t have ditched me. We don’t talk to each other that often anymore, but I’m fine with that. I hope you have a good life.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
You are not dead, but it sure feels like you aren’t living in my life. I still remember the day you told me you were moving, it was in the summer of 4th grade. We had been best friends for about 5 years, and I was heart broken that you were leaving. You kept in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":0,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-539","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-love-letters"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/539","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=539"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/539\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=539"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=539"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=539"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}