Slaved, my dear girl. Slaved for it. Took all my effort, left you alone. Gave you your space.

Hate to be cyptic, but little of it warrants an explanation.

Got a good friend back, made some new ones. We've changed for each other. I love her because she is my friend, my closest female friend. No one else knows me like she does besides my mother, of whom I am also very close with.

I am weary of getting too attatched to her because her two weeks of treating me like utter shit had a diverse effect on my mind. I lost a friend, but she didn't. She knows I'll always be there.

What if I needed her? She never considered that. I need her now more than ever, and if she can't see it I wont tell her anything.

I still miss my dear friend, and I hope she misses me.