I keep telling myself that I don’t miss you and I don’t live you. Maybe one day I’ll believe myself…
The day your parents forced us apart because of you’re anger was the day I died. I regret not talking to you when I saw you cry. Later that day, you explained everything over text, and you said we were best friends, but how come you haven’t talked to me since? Rumors started coming up, but I didn’t believe any of them. Only around one person has been truly supportive. I remember checking my phone every hour, thinking that you would text me, because that’s what “best friends” do, right?