I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for

Look at this photograph
Every time I do, it makes me laugh

I met her in grade 4, I think. It didn't take long to discover a common distaste for Phys. Ed., a common liking of Slip N' Sliding, and a shared weakness for giant peanut butter cookies. We moved our desks together and giggled our way through class, passing notes and whispering together. We played foursquare; we played Barbies. We cut windows in appliance boxes and ran around her neighbourhood, wearing them, in the early mornings after sleepovers. We listened to Tiffany and Debbie Gibson cassette tapes, lip-syncing with hairbrushes.

And this is where I grew up
I think the present owner fixed it up
I never knew we'd ever went without

Time passed. Boys became much more interesting than the Slip N' Slide. We would have died, literally died, to be seen with appliance boxes over our heads. We shared makeup and earrings and cheap perfume, and confided our darkest secrets. Tiffany was like, so lame; now it was all about Roxette and Bon Jovi. We felt vaguely ashamed of the old Barbies that were shoved into boxes under our beds.

We used to listen to the radio
And sing along with every song we know

We traveled around Europe in the summer between grades 11 and 12. That sunny, muggy, wonderful summer was spent playing rummy late into the night, watching Italian television in our Venice hotel room, swimming in the Adriatic Sea with a guy from the Netherlands. We stumbled along in German. ("Willst du ein Stück Kaugummi?" "Ja, bitte.") We giggled at the Speedos and thong bikinis on European beaches. We sat together on trains and buses and subways, and we knew, without saying a word, that our friendship would last forever.

I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye

And then things began to change. I'm not sure why. We were different, I guess; we were changing and moving in opposite directions. There was an awkward pause now and then in our conversations. We weren't entirely comfortable anymore, sharing secrets and hopes and dreams. It became easier to confide in other friends. We both had new, other confidantes, and although I still thought about her, I rarely phoned. I just wasn't sure what to say.

If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change

Time went on. I married and moved away -- not far, but far enough. Sometimes I would see something, or hear a song that reminded me of my friend. And although I thought of her with fondness, it all felt like so long ago: almost as if we had been different people back then.

I miss that town
I miss their faces
You can't erase
You can't replace it

For a long time now, I've hardly thought about my friend. I avoid the memories. It makes me sad to think of our younger selves, secure in the knowledge that we would always be close. I don't like knowing that we were so mistaken. Why do people grow apart? What vital ingredient was missing?

I have the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye

I know, now, that people change; friends grow, and not always in the same direction. I know now that I was a poor friend: I was a person with high expectations and little empathy. I know, now, that it takes work to keep a friend. I know now that those friends can't be taken for granted... and I know the pain and regret associated with losing a friendship.

I wish things had turned out differently.

Look at these photographs
Every time I do it makes me laugh
Every time I do it makes me

(Song lyrics from "Photograph" by Nickelback.)