I fear you miss the old me.
The two years ago me.
The funny me.

I told you I wouldn't talk of this, and for that I'm sorry. This just happens to pollute my mind just enough to write about it.
You would be the first to know that I write with a pessimistic pen, and that its hard to digest my sadness. You would also be the first to know that I didn't always carry so much weight, that I used to make people laugh.
That I used to make you laugh.
I'm sure you still like the new, but I feel as though you long for the old.
This write is jumbled. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me for it.