I want to fix everything, to mend every crack and hole I’ve made. I want to say I’m sorry, but this goddamn Pride is holding me back, and I just can’t. I can’t force the words from my mouth even when I know that I truly am sorry, that I truly miss you. I miss talking to you, I miss laughing with you about the most trivial things, but, most surprisingly, I miss the hard times when you would be there for me, and I was there for you. And now all I can think of is how crazy it is, you know? How so many words can go unspoken, how so many chances can be passed up, all because of this stupid Pride. How I can be so unbelievably happy for you: happy that you’ve finally become comfortable with yourself, happy that you’ve finally found a girl whom you can love, and happy that you’re doing just fine, but never allow myself to express it, at least, not to your face. And honestly, that’s not the kind of girl I want to be, the girl that’s too proud to tell you all of the things that she keeps locked up inside, simply because she’s too damn proud.