Thinking of a best friend from the past

I had a best friend in grades 7 through 9. In grade 8, in an activity that we did in French class, she revealed that she was sexually abused.

I stayed with her and our French teacher to talk it out. I had an orthodontist's appointment and my dad was waiting for me, wondering why I was running late.

Our friendship suffered as she became more of a feminist and preferred to have lunch in the washroom by herself, rather than eating in the lunch room with a bunch of us.

Walking together to school slowly dwindled. We drifted apart. She changed high schools in grade 11. We didn't keep in touch.

The last time I saw her was in a store on Yonge Street, which is the longest street in the world and starts in Toronto. It was at the end of my second year of undergraduate studies. We said hi. She was with a woman. I was with my good friend whom we are still friends to this day.

I think of her often. Today is her birthday. I hope that she is doing well, wherever she is.