I Wish You Were Here - Avril Lavigne
Dear Bradley,
You messaged me, and I messaged you back... Maybe too late, but for some reason I still have hope that it wasn't.
Where are you? I need you right now. Even though, more than likely you don't need me anymore.
That was a harsh thing to say but I need to say these harsh things, in order to make myself realize that you and I will never become an 'us'.
There will just be me.
There will just be a Bradley.
That's all, and that's what I'm hoping on now.
I've stopped thinking about the impossible, and started thinking about what could actually be possible. So I've decided that all I want back is my friend.
My best friend that I could go to with anything. My best friend that could make me smile again within the blink of an eye.
Now I'm kind of thinking negatively. What if you've already read my messages that I replied back to you with? What if you decided that you don't want me in your life and so you decided to just ignore the messages and left me in a state of utter confusion?
I hate thinking this way, but God. I'm insanely paranoid about every situation that comes my way in life. I'm worried that you're not okay. I'm worried that you're perfectly fine and is just driving me spit crazy. I'm worried that that last message you sent me, is truly the last message.
I don't really feel like talking anymore, so I'm just gonna stop here.
-
A.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Bradley,
ChickLitclo•sure [ klōzhar ]; the permanent ending of something [WARNING: this is going to be an extremely short story. Literally only 6 chapters long, but you'll understand why with the format that it's been written in.]
