ode to the yesteryear

i was cleaning my room yesterday because god knows i've waited long enough
and from beneath piles of plastic junk i unearthed the remains of our friendship:
the little thread bracelet 
that i cut off of my wrist when it threatened my circulation
and that paperback we filled with our memories
decorated the cover with pastel marker, called it "the book of us", our shared diary,
we brought it to school every day in key-chain embellished backpacks
took turns bringing it home every night to write in
(i don't remember why i kept it, maybe you do)
what happened to the two gap-toothed kids squealing in the backyard as they drenched themselves with hose water
the muddy ground squelching beneath their feet
do you remember them?

you threw out your bracelet yesterday
found it while you were cleaning too, guess great minds think alike
or maybe it was the last remnant of the friend telepathy we loved to nurture
before you got rid of it you sat on your bed for a while
contemplating us
maybe you even shuffled through the pictures from summers long past just to get a nostalgia kick
posted the best one in a faded sepia filter on your story with the caption #throwbackthursday
in the movies i would've called you, or you would've called me
we would've reminisced for a while
while twangy sentimental guitar music swelled in the background 

we're different now
that's okay, it was supposed to be this way

but i still miss you