I don’t miss you. Honestly I don’t. You were awful to me and for me and we fought all the time and I feel like every time we saw each other, it ended in you screaming at me and me crying in the corner. You’d walk over and try to hug me, try to help me up, and I’d scream and yell and push you away because I needed it. I needed to get away. But I never could get away until you pushed me. And you didn’t just push me, you pushed me off a fucking cliff. I don’t miss you because that’s all we did. But I do miss feeling like I have someone to talk to.