I’d probably tell you I was sorry.
But I know it’s for the best that I don’t. I don’t know how much of what we said to each other was truly meant, but I do know that most of it can’t be taken back.
When we burned that bridge, we really made sure to bury the ashes, didn’t we?
Even so, I’m sorry. I hope you’re doing okay. You probably are. This probably hasn’t even bothered you since last year. But still, I just worry sometimes.
I wish we were better at talking through problems. I wish our parents never hurt us when we were kids. I wish that you never tried to pressure me. I wish we could take back the things we said. I wish I wasn’t foolish. I wish that you understood what I was trying to tell you last March. I wish I could understand you.
I wish we were still friends. It’s just that now, whenever I think about you, it just makes me incredibly sad. Nothing can fix that.
It’s like you said; I don’t think I can ever face you again.