We used to be best friends. We used to do everything together. You would grasp me in excitement, and I would smile. You would hold me in your arms as you cried, and I’d be there to catch your tears. Every stroke you ran through my hair, every warm beat of your fingers on my chest, I was there, I saw it all. I meant everything to you, and you meant everything to me.

Then you got cold. Your desktop was colder. You got taller, you got broader, your breasts and chest began to grow, but I stayed the same. You looked at me, and I smiled hoping you’d see me, but I guess not. I started to fade away, blocked by the LED screens and gizmos and gadgets that entranced you that took you away from this world and brought you into another. I sat watching, waiting to smile and see your smile again, but all I got was a brush shove onto the ground, and all I received was being picked back up.

Eventually you stopped caring; eventually I was nothing more than a speck of dirt on your carpet floor. Sure, I felt your warm hands encasing my legs. And every time I sat waiting for you to cradle me in your arms, to hold me the way you use to and to bring me back to the young girl I once knew, not the emotionless shell you had become.

You changed your hair, your clothes, your outfits and everything about you. You shoved me to the side looking for makeup, muttering about your boyfriend, about everything in your life that mattered, somewhere I never was. You were lost, and I could find you. I could bring you to that place, I could make you the innocent girl you once were, but you never gave me a chance, letting me sit and envelop with dust on the hard wooden desk in the back of your room.

Until one day. One day you came in crying, one day you came in crying heavily, little black waterfalls dripping down your face, your face buried in your hands. And you looked at me, at your little friend who’d been sitting, seeing the person you’d become and fearing the change you undertook. And you smiled, and I smiled, and you wrapped your hands tight around my chest, and you held me to your chest and your heart beat soft. And I smiled. I remember the rain pitter-pattering against the window, the dim light of the lamp on your desk as you laid down with me in your arms, the soft cushions of your bed a crib for the innocent girl I found. You apologized, and I smiled. And you smiled, shutting your eyes and hugging me into your chest, whispering softly, thanks for never giving up on me.