I read. and you're right. I don't understand. I don't know what you went through. But i try to understand. I want to. I want to fix things. with everyone who i had hurt. I want us Three back. and I myself am full of regret. And I hate saying that I am full of regret because I always told myself that I will live life without regret. But truth is. I regret everything. I regret the words. I regret the jealousy. (yes i will forever be jealous of you) I regret the lies, the promises and the betrayal. I figure, thats just what happens in high school. But it shouldn't. The things i've done. shouldn't have ever been done to anyone. because no best friend deserves that kind of treatment. Not a day goes by that i don't think about it.
I hate this fading. And this nonexistent relationship. I hate not having you to claim as my best.
Its like a falling out. but worse. It's like not breathing but worse.
... It's like when you're looking for something but you forgot where it is. and what it was that you were looking for... because thats just bad.
The thing is. I hope you hate me. And tell everybody how horrible of a friend i was to you. because nobody deserves the way i treated you. I hope you never want to be that close with me again. yet i hope we can be just as close but closer. (as if it would build our bones stronger and make us more... idk) I don't know where i am going with this. It all comes down to... I miss you. miss you. miss you.
I feel like i broke your heart. and tore you to pieces. I feel like its my fault because i kept telling you that you needed someone, like i have someone. and then you ended up in a fickle. with boys. and toys. and things. am i a bad influence? i know i am.
enough about me... because I'm not the one who needs sympathy.
Junior year could have been better for us my dear.
Deep down inside i hope we can make up for it senior year.
or maybe i feel like i hope i can make it up for you.
because i owe you.
i owe you... well... more than i can say.
And i still cry. because i tore us apart.
Reborn and regretful,
An Ex-best
ps. The black tight ones, you wore for cheer.
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