Still unsatisfied, we chase what we’re denied.
As generations wait,
we can’t resist the taste of possibility.
Gears turn, endlessly, to bring us back to life again.
Like clockwork, we begin.
I miss us. I miss just having fun. I miss knowing what’s going on in your life. I miss driving around and listening to dumb French club music. I miss the us before the fighting. I miss our friendship. I miss being able to go to you when I don’t know what to do. I miss the music you’d introduce me to. I miss your guitar playing. I miss your dad and your mom. I miss your dogs. I miss being there for you. I miss watching endless episodes of Workaholics. I miss laying in your bed while you figure out the answer to life at your desk. I miss our Fry’s adventures. I just want us and our weird yet perfect friendship back. Before everything got serious and fucked up.
I don’t hate you. I promise.
Aww! I love that! Thank you!
I’m done with being bitter. I’m tired of being jealous. I’m tired of acting like I don’t care and it makes me sick that we’re different now.
I guess I just miss my best friend.