We were best friends. You liked her, I liked him. When those two started dating we both broke. Everybody thought that us two, broken people, could help fix each other. We dismissed it and continued to watch the happy couple, trying to bury our own feelings. Until she got board with him and broke his heart. You saw a glimmer of hope so I helped you attempt to win her her affections. But, she only loved you as a friend. And me? I forgot about him, because his feelings are still for the girl who dumped him. I understood that. So, we gave up on them. Everyone said our hearts belonged to each other and that we already felt something. After thinking about their words I realised that I really did feel something, so I ran. I avoided you. I know you saw through it, through me. You knew I wasn’t alright, and you tried to help. You just made it worse. I’m sorry I fucked it up with my feelings. I’m sorry I let you go. Maybe you did feel something, I’ll never know now. But the “what if?” of this of scenario is what keeps driving me mad.