when you text somebody for the first time and their texting style is completely different from yours
I love you when you’re singing that song and I got a lump in my throat cause you’re gonna sing the words wrong.
I remember telling you once that I hated the idea of forgetting the sound of someone’s voice or the way they look. Over time I tend to lose the details of a person. And it’s been over a year since I saw you last. I can’t remember the sound of your voice, or your laugh or even the color of your eyes. I can’t remember the simple details about you as a human being that once drew me to you. What hurts me the most is that for some strange reason I opened up to you more than I ever had with anyone else. Some how, some way, you understood me even better than I understood myself sometimes. The way that you knew what I was feeling or thinking by the look on my face or the way I breathed. That kind of synchronicity between people is hard to come by. And our friendship blossomed to quickly and I felt incredibly attached to you. You became another piece of me because I gave this broken, misunderstood piece of my heart to you that no one else ever knew about, and if they did, they didn’t get me like you did. I know that I’m an incredibly flawed person and the way that I learn is by continuously fucking up. That’s what makes us polar opposites. Where you’re incredibly intelligent, well spoken and motivated I’m street smart with a bad attitude and big heart. Our lives went in two opposite directions. That happens in growing up. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, not in a creepy way or anything. You’ve randomly appeared in my dreams 3 times now in the past week. And in each dream it seems like nothing happened. Like it’s 2012 and we’re best friends. The decision to stop being friends really hurt me. And randomly seeing you this summer hurt more than I could explain. Seeing your face reminded me of how much I miss you. I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Because I don’t want you to see it, but deep down, really deep down, part of me hopes you do. And I hope that you know that if you ever wanted me back in your life I’d be there. When I said you were my person, I meant it. I miss your motherly advise and the fact that you cared about every detail of my life. Who else would badger me to go to the doctor like you? No one. I know you said that my idea of a best friend didn’t include any kind of criticism or anything. And in that way, you’re right. And wrong. Because I do need criticism and quite desperately need someone to call me out on my shit sometimes. But I always shut you down when you tried to talk to me about important stuff, and for that, I’m sorry. I’ve tried to gather the gall to text you and just ask how you are. But honestly, at this point, I can’t emotionally handle a one word answer or no reply.