We have so much fun, together, you and I, chasing each other, laughing, making stupid jokes, and talking about this and that, but suddenly, I disappear from your memory, like I'm not even important anymore. Like all of the fun times never happened. Suddenly I'm just another someone, and if I try to remind you then suddenly I'm a freak who really thinks she can fix all of the glass she's shattered and try to put our relationship back together. I liked it better at first, before I feared you. We were good friends then, and you didn't freak me out in the least. When I got to know you better, suddenly I became afraid, and felt that the only way to get rid of my fear was to compete and purposely scare you.

I've been angry at myself for the past two years, thinking about you, what I did to you, what I can do now. But every time I try mending the glass that once held something of a friendship between us, you won't accept me or feel anything at all. It's almost like you'd rather remain broken than remember me.

If you are reading this you probably know who you are, and I'm saying for the final time that I'm sorry. I've probably never felt this bad about anything in my thirteen years of living. If you had one drop of care for me you would accept my apology and and we could be friends again. If you don't, then I don't either. 

Remember the times we've spent, then tell me how much you still hate me. Remember me as everything, not just the bad, and tell me how scared you are.