So this is what I missed in my last year without you: just a hundred nights that I don’t sleep alone. It fucking rules (that I don’t wake up feeling, “Oh no, not again. I spent my last six bucks on whiskey and I sent a thousand texts that I regret.”).
They’re written in a language I don’t know. There are things you know about me now that I wish you didn’t know.
It’s all right.
And I see that I missed the subtle hints you left me that my little lies had actually hurt a lot. I never meant to cause you drama. I never meant to fall in love and then deny it (try to hide it), but when I we kissed, I would be done, and speaking in some language I don’t know. There are things you know about me now that I wish you didn’t know.
Hey there Melissa, you’re fucking awesome. I just keep going on and on when you’re not around.
But I’m always around, probably dragging you down.
Though I do my best for you.