What I want most is to know that he’s forgiven me, that we can be friends again. We were such great friends before he asked me out, before I had to lie in an attempt of not hurting him. This mess is every bit as much my fault as it is his. Sure, he shouldn’t have asked me out, then acted all depressed the first time I rebuked him, and he shouldn’t have followed me around right after the break up, telling me that he’d wait for me and that he loved me. He should have known to just give me a few days to cool down, he shouldn’t have acted so depressed, then we would’ve been friends right now, not awkwardly avoiding each other. But maybe I shouldn’t have tried to break it to him gently. I said, “I can’t go out with you… but I wish I could.” I should have explained that we were just friends, that that was all we could ever be , right on the spot. I’d hoped that he would be able to see that it wasn’t meant to be on his own, without the heartbreak, and then we would have been those same great friends again like we were. And then I behaved so childishly towards him, so terribly. I found that I just wanted to contradict everything he said, to prove him wrong. In what, I didn’t know exactly, but just anything, everything. Because of my stubbornness, I wasn’t able to see the truth clearly. Now I do, over half a year later. I now see how wrong I was, how stupid. I did hate him for a while, but not because of the break-up; it was because we weren’t friends anymore. I miss all of my friends because I get very attached to them. I fly into a rage every time I lose a friend, and the deeper the friendship, the deeper the rage. I guess what I’m trying to say is…I miss you, and I’m sorry.