When something doesn't quite work out, I think of you. Because that's when everything began to go downhill, that night so many months ago. Why? I'm not completely sure. I don't even think you noticed I had changed.
But that's when I started giving up. After that, I gave up on people. Friends, family, everyone. I distanced myself, and I really didn't care, because I realised that nothing mattered enough for me to.
One day, I'll be out of here, and you will either remember me, or you won't. I'm going to meet new people, become part of other people's lives, and I'll be happy. And maybe you'll stay here, or you'll leave. Who knows? I might even see you again, pass you in the street. And it won't be uncomfortable. You'll ask me how I am and I'll honestly reply that I'm fine, that everything turned out just the way it should have.
Right now, I don't feel like that. I feel like every little thing I do, every word I say, could mean the end of something. Of a friendship, relationship, anything. But that's the risk I'm willing to take, if it takes me one moment further, one day closer to a life where I am perfectly at ease.
So I hope you're happy. In fact, I know you are, you're so happy with what you have now, that you don't even have time to stop, and think, about that girl you used to know. It's not like I expect you to try now though. You had your chance.
