memory
2:59 p.m.

a~

i wish you were here. i wish you were with me. i wish you were at least my friend.

the last phone convo i had with my friend, amy, we talked about you. not even in a bad way. we--or rather, I--talked about how you were bascially perfect, how it seemed ike you had walked out my dreams simply to make realtiy seem more like a dream for me. a good dream. a dream come true. and the problem is i think it really just was that. a dream. you never talk to me anymore. you said you would call, you said you would be my friend but i suspect that maybe i repel guys as friends as much as i have bad luck flocking to me.

i miss you, you know.

i know your precious memory most likely has no picture of me but i miss you so much...

~me

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