You put me through Hell.
Knowing that whichever way I turned,
        you were there to stab me in the back.
The countless hours of crying and confusion
        trying to get you to understand that you were in a delusion
        that I was never out to get you, and I
        never tried to hurt you.

                Although sometimes, it felt like that was your
                only mission.

You never took the time to listen or to compromise with
        the words that came out of my mouth.
You were good at the quick reactions and sudden stabs
        and my mouth simply didn't run as fast as yours did.
Because trying to word the truth into means in which you'd listen
        was a seemingly impossible task that I
        tried to tackle and defeat.

                But your sting defeated me
                instead.

I'll have you know,
        I've never missed you more.
Four years later, I'm still reminiscing of a time
        when yours was mine.
Secrets were shared, and we actually cared
        about each other.

                The words "I'm sorry" and "I miss you" never really
                fix anything.

They could have but words
        can never be erased.
They leave a trace
        especially ones that travel in permanent ink and are
        always linked on the internet
I'd love a chance to start over, I feel like we've
        grown since then but you
        grew up with each other and I
        was left to find another
But never did.

                And I could really use a friend here.