sometimes i miss you,
but then i realize that i was just an awful person to be friends with,
as were you.
i never kept stories straight,
afraid to tell the truth about my family after i opened up to you and you judged me,
so then i tried to keep quiet.
but it just resulted in things i could never explain well enough for you to understand.
i don't miss the person you are.
you are damaged,
and toxic,
and lost,
but i am too,
and maybe two toxics cant be mixed.
i don't miss the person you are,
i miss the memories,
and being able to call you a best friend,
but i don't miss you.
the more days past,
the more i wish it wasn't you who i shared all the memories with.