Tomorrow is the judgement day.

They've decided in order to get my feelings out, I have to talk to you as if you're still here. Write to you as if you give a crap about what I think anymore.  So here goes. 

Tomorrow is the day I sink  or swim, fly or fall.  I'm not as nervous as I should be, considering. I just feel.. empty. Tomorrow is the day I face up to everyone that hates my guts for what happened. 

Do you remember, all that time ago, the promise we made? We were only eight, mind you, so I doubt it.  We were sat crosslegged in your room, you facing me.  We promised each other we'd be there for the other, no matter what. "Come hell or high water" I said. "Hell can't come, we'd have to go there!" you replied. We then laughed until we couldn't see straight. It was the kind of laughter where we took one look at each other and set off again.

What the hell happened to that promise? We screwed it up majorly, and now its all just words. 

And the truth is? I'm terrified, not of tomorrow, but of forever without you. Gosh, how sappy. I half expected a lemon meringue pie to appear, or be named  a 'meddling kid!' 

I'm so useless at this. All my feelings get blocked out by humour and sarcastic remarks. You used to hate that. What an odd pair we made. The girl that can't feel and the boy that would never tell. 

The End

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