Looking down the road, it seems kind of harsh to say bad words to friends. Having to make mends is even harder though. Admitting you were wrong? I can’t do that. I wish I could. We probably won’t talk anymore. We’re probably enemies. We’ll probably spite each other. We’ll probably make up stories about each other.

Why couldn’t we swallow our pride? Why can’t we just be friends? I miss hanging out with them. But of course, that’s the easy way. The hard to swallow, but painless easy way. Words. Words. Words.