Dear you, (A poem)

There was a time when you had sparked an interest inside of me
And the flame, therein, last for quite some time, as we walked
Through memories and wrote them down and orated them, together
And we became quite comfortable, there, at the parks and the restaurants
We exchanged word of promise and birthday letters as contracts
Which we signed an infinite friendship, for it had so seemed that way
And you gave me chances and I gave you chances
I was allotted more time to think about the promises I had broken, and 
You were swore you would be patient, for it was never my duty to give my all to you.
Though so many times, had I sworn that the duty was mine, but I just couldn't keep it.
And I'm so sorry
I'm so sorry 
But we grew bigger, and we left the walls of high school, 
And we parted, like two branches of a tree, coming from the same bark, 
but splitting to produce our own leaves, and you chose the green ones,
And I, the red ones, 
I stopped. 
I stopped being your friend. 
And when I had felt like I had almost grown to touch the sky, 
You never asked how the view was
You didn't ask me if the rain hurt a bit harder now that I was growing along,
But you made sure to tell me how it was better to stay put, and I had taken
Stupid risks, and you had made the better decisions.
And I sat there, and I listened to your experiences, and we sat together,
But you never asked how my side of the tree was,
You just complimented how life was on your side, 
And so you continued to tell me all those stories, sometimes sad, mostly happy,
But I forgot to ask you; When did you stop being you?