I miss this. It’s like an old semester that’s hard to go back to, now matter how hard we try.

I miss you. You’re like a scrambled egg that’s been left out all afternoon – you’re too cold and bitter.

I miss her. She’s like a broken record, playing in my head over and over and over again. Don’t worry, she’s like my conscience.

I miss him. He’s like a scar – ever present and reminding.

I miss them. They’re like inside jokes that make life worthwhile.

–Oh btw, I cried while watching, for the first time, the sixth sense.


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