it was your birthday. it was your birthday and I should have done something more than send a text. but I don’t know what to say. if I even want to say anything. you have your new life and your new friends. and I’m bitter. bitter that you’ll do something with your life and I’m going to drop out and do nothing for the rest of mine. know the same people and places for the rest of time. and in the end, die bitter, wishing I did something more. but that’s not the point. you were my best friend. and now you’re not. that’s the point.
and now I know that I can be this way. and now I know that I can walk away.
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