I’m sorry I’m so rubbish at talking. I wish I didn’t feel this empty hole as you are sat one row behind me. This is the epitome of embarrassing– an embarassment no one else can feel but the one experiencing it.
I wish I could rewind to my freshman year and stop myself from uttering words I didn’t mean. Words that had no ounce of truth–the one thing I understand Journalism to be based on.
You seem happy now– and I’ve never wanted to make you feel anything less, I hope I didn’t back on that day. You deserve every bit of success I know your going to achieve in the future. Now, you’re gone. You’ve just walked out of the door with your love, and you’re moving on to greater things.
I’m glad I got to know you for a speck of your time. Does your father still wear clogs? I’ve attempted to muster up the courage for the past month now– to say anything pertaining to the day that I regret most.
I let an old friend go, one I had pushed away with words for him I had not aimed. I wish you the best– I know you’ll find it. I wish you could read this– but I know you never thought to see it.