i haven't thought about you in months.
when you're spoken of it's all numb, like a monotonous script laid before me, like i'm being teleprompted, nothing is drawn from inside. how hard is it to simply think of you, to register that you were once here and that you had meaning, you had a laugh and you had a smile. you can't even measure how tragic it is that you're not here when you compare it to the fact that nobody cares anymore, you aren't prominent, and you aren't registered correct or aching in our memory. it makes me sick, and right now i am the worst of us. you don't deserve this, i wish we could trade places.