Sometimes I wish we were still friends, because my life was so much more interesting with you in it despite your inherently torpid nature. What was even more interesting was the way you fought so hard to seem adventurous and spontaneous when, in reality, you wouldn't know spontaneity if it bit you in the ass. The way you made my life interesting though, is by comparison, you made your own sound so bleak. I'm not older by much, we've spent about the same amount of time on the planet. The ludicrous thing about you is the empty bitterness. I've had my heart ruined and I can barely find a reason to be bitter, but yours is fine. A little dusty, perhaps, filled with cobwebs, but it's never been broken. I'm not sure where your hate for the world and all its inhabitants comes from, but there isn't a reason for it. No one has done anything to you, and you've never done anything to them. The sad part is, you realize this, and can't stop the loathing that comes off you in waves of everyone else who seems to be happy. This is why I only sometimes wish that we were still friends. My life just looked a little brighter next to yours. Although you can't say I didn't try to brighten yours up, I did, and you rejected it. But hey, our "connection" broke up, so I guess you had a good reason, right?