I don't burp; I tend to belch

I have this, thing that I do. I don't want to call it a hobby, because, well, simply because, I don't do it often. It occurs at very arbitrary times.
It might be a short story, or a picture, a manga, or just a quote. Sometimes, I remember how much I liked it and so I spend my time browsing frantically looking for it. It's almost like a, replenish of the past. A sort of reassurance that I need.
I went all the way back a hundred pages and read my friend's post. She wrote about me and called me her best friend. I still remember. But, the funny thing is, this isn't another sob post about what happened; actually it's one of realization. When did we stop talking? When did she stop telling me everything? The sudden punch of reality sometimes leaves me at dead ends. Then I get mad at myself for letting that happen. When did I change?
Emotions really screw you over.