that you & I are still talking. Having to pretend that I don’t know you when I see you every morning on weekdays. Thinking about the endless conversations we had because we’d fall asleep together. The name calling that you never approve of. The times you’d drop me off home, knowing that I was safe. Then there was the arguements, where you think I was mad, but I was never. I was just disappointed, because you were hurting yourself, and I just wanted the best for you.