They say it’s your loss, but it’s mine. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t make you stay. I’m so sorry that I’m just not enough.
I know they’re going to be tidal waves of missing you. I know that for the time being I’ll wonder how you’re doing and I’ll still look over at your house. But if there’s one thing you taught me it was to rely on myself through some tough shit. I’m sad you’ve moved away but I know this is for the better, for the both of us. I’m ready to start over once more.
I want to open a really angry coffee shop called “I’m Not a Morning Person” and name all the drinks really angrily
like “can I get a Fuck You” or a “I’m Studying for Finals” or “My In-Laws are in Town”
and they all have shots of tequila in them
who wants to be my business partner