I've been thinking that sometimes when you move, people tend to not want to talk to you anymore. Like you're an outsider. Sometimes it takes longer to do that with some people. Maybe you could be friends for a long time just over something like text or email.
There comes a point when 'I'll talk to you tomorrow' turns into 'I'll talk to you in four months...'
Then becomes something like being friends only when it is convenient for the other person.

Sometimes when you move, you have a friend you made such a bond with that you can't bear to not talk to them. Even if they don't want to talk to you sometimes. No matter what happens, you'll try to be there for them. No matter what they do or don't tell you.
You love them (Not necessarily in a romantic way) and will always want to take care of them. Maybe you'll start out crying to them your problems. They'll help you because they feel the same way, wanting to make sure you're okay.
But maybe some day will come.
And that day will not be good.
You may start to drift apart...and you'll wonder if it was your fault.
Did I do something? What did I say? Did I not do something? Have I not done enough?

You only want to help them.
But they drift farther from you. You want to help them, but they refuse.
You cry into your pillows hoping it wasn't your fault.
Hoping that you didn't drive them to whatever is wrong.
Hoping that they'll be okay.
Sobbing into your pillow.
Wondering if maybe, on the other end of cyberspace, they're doing the same.
Crying into their pillow.
And your email that has been going for months, titled: 'Re: Best Friends' suddenly goes dark. Quiet. Lonely.
Talkinging into cyberspace. Hoping that without you they'll be okay. Then you realize it wasn't you that helped them. They have their own family. Their own friends. Maybe you were just the clingy one who kept annoying them. Did they fake this? Do they not really like you? Have you never been their friend?
Or are you just paranoid?

You want to be friends.
You want them to be alright.
Maybe someday you'll see each other again.
Maybe you can help them.
Maybe it's just a sad point in both of your lives.
You cry whenever something bad happens to them.
Each time you cry a little more.
And a little more.
And a little more.
You only want to cry now.
Feeling like you may die of dehydration from crying so much.
But when you do try to help...you only find yourself falling. Slipping away.
And drifting apart.