I miss the way we could talk for hours. They way I’d be so stupid and you’d call it cute. Which was a nice change rather that what most people said to me. The way that I was me and you were you, and we both loved that. The problems I had wouldn’t matter when I was with you. But now it’s hard to figure out if I miss you, or the feeling you’d give me. You could be someone completely different now, someone, who in different circumstances, I’d hate. I have come to believe that missing you isn’t worth it. It’s funny because at any moment life could change. In this change, missing you could become as worthless as the thought of you missing me back. And I can’t tell if there is for a reason for that yet. I do know I miss you, and I hate that.