There's something about riding in cars with friends on a Summery night that makes everything, for that moment, ok. The last two nights I've felt alive and healthy with my friends. It's funny how when that car ride ends reality hits.
I'm thinking about the way anger and hatred taint our views of people we once loved. Why is it never ok to miss someone who hurt you? Why do we always put on a brave face and try and mask our pain with anger? Why is it somehow seen as weak to admit that even though someone really deeply hurt you, you miss them?
Maybe it's just me, but I don't believe in clouding the truth.
To all those who have been in my life and no longer choose to be:
I miss you. I'm sorry.
If you're reading this, let me know how you're doing. I don't expect you to magically want to be friends again, or for things to be ok, but if I cared about you then, I care about you now. Plain and simple, I don't believe in hating people just because they hurt you.
There's a song my dad plays that says "Don't fear your worst friend, 'cause your worst friend's just a best friend that's done you wrong."
The point is, we were friends, whether you admit it or not. That's worth something.
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