I don’t want to miss you. I want to hate you. I want to be angry with you. I don’t want to miss you after what you did. You hurt me in a way no one could comprehend, in a way that I could never expect. You were the last person I thought would hurt me in this way. You can’t even explain yourself to me. You aren’t here to explain what happened, why you went back to a lifestyle you knew was killing you.

You KNEW it was killing you, and you did it anyway. You were doing so well for a while. It was almost like talking to the sweet, pink-haired friend I met a few years ago. It was talking to you. You were back for a good while. That meant the world. Having you back was a blessing. I felt so proud of you. You got your life back together; you pushed him out, and you were back on the right track. Sure, you were going to support groups; you were facing the fact that the needle had a powerful trance over you.

You were a fighter, though; you made it six months! Six months without anything, without hurting yourself, without hurting the people that care about you the most. You were proving that you were back. I felt so proud of you. 

Last night, you said you would text me today. You were going to meet up with your ex for a little while but promised nothing was going to happen; you were done with him. Again, so proud of you. How could I not be proud of you for ditching someone that had you hooked on such a terrible thing? I should have asked you to call me last night, or at least text me to let me know you were home. I never thought that would be our last conversation.

You saw him, and you went back to the trance. He’s always had one over you, and it’s always been… interesting to see. I’ve always found it a bit odd how one person could completely put a spell on you. You’ve always had a powerful mind, a beautiful mind, you’ve always been someone that’s irresistible to others. He was irresistible to you, though.

He brought you the needles. What were you thinking? How could you step back on everything you’ve promised us? I was supposed to hear from you today. I was supposed to hear that you were okay. I never did. I waited for the message. It never came. You never came back.

I don’t want to miss you. I don’t want to think about the phone calls or video calls where we talked, giggled about things, talked about guys, talked about life in general. I don’t want to miss the intense conversations I had with you. I don’t want to miss your smile and your laugh. I don’t want to miss your friendship. I will, though. I’ll miss it for the rest of my life. I’ll always wonder if there was a sign, something I could have done to prevent this.

There wasn’t. I can’t take on the guilt of your decision. In the end, it was your decision. I don’t want to miss you, but now I always will.