Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I’ve ever known, but some people are just born with tragedy in their blood. I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions. I find happiness in the simplest of things; but lo, if you could read my mind, you’d be in tears. I feel like I need everyone else so much more than they need me. At what point did my life leave the comforts of the road in favor of the empty air brushing against a cliff side?
I miss you; mind you not in some cheesy, “let’s hold hands forever” way. I just miss you. Plain and simple. I miss your presence in my life. I miss you always being there for me. I miss my best friend. I miss you, the old you; the new one sucks. I guess we never really move on. I don’t hate you, I’m just disappointed you turned into everything you said you’d never be. You ask me why I haven’t talked to you; well maybe it’s because you slowly pushed me out of your life. I’m glad you’re finally noticing. You should have opened your eyes. I was crazy for you.