I want to talk to you. You won't let me talk to you. You told me to give you time. I'm going to give you time. It's the hardest thing waking up each time thinking about where you are and realizing it isn't last year. But I can do it. I just wish I didn't have to. Sometimes I think you're leaving messages on the quiz I made. But I can't be sure. I can't embarrass myself like that again unless I'm sure. And I can't risk you hating me anymore than you already might. I just miss you.