Someone made me think of you the other day. I told the story of a friend I once had then feelings began to complicate. Damn did that happen so long ago. It’s strange to sit outside of your own story and look in and wish you could tell yourself you were going to be fine either choice I made. Maybe I should of said I liked you back in high school and we could be once of those couples that spent all their firsts together and tell their kids that. Instead I’m trying to guess that blonde boys number which is saved in my texts because I won’t commit to adding a damn contact. I’m not sad about it I just need to ask him what kind of speakers he had and to tell you I still love you and wish we could be friends.
