(no subject)
As I sit here waiting, this thought won't go away. I miss my friend, the one who use to make me feel like maybe I did have some importance. The one who was always there, waiting with a cheery greeting for me. The one who would try to make me happy when no one else even noticed. The friend that said she would always be there for me. I know people grow and move on but I guess I was hoping she'd find a way to be there anyway. Hope is a fragile thing, like fog on a warm morning. It soon dissipates under the truth like the moisture under the rays of the sun.