If I could paint it (I am awful with a paintbrush) the scene in my head would be like your name crashing into his, and the colors would reflect the conflict within me...the way the emotions sore, and then drop, and run together to make the shade of brown of my hair and eyes.
You were a lesson to be learned, I just never realized it was all about someone else, not you. It was never you. Thank god you never cared, or this might have really hurt you.
Can we leave the past in the past? Call it friends?
No wait...I'm still not the whole picture, not a whole person. Give me a decade or so to fill in my gaps, maybe then I can leave you be and not glean from you the things I lack.
I'll call you when I get it together. When I'm a person who deserves a friend like you.
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