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★

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Oh, I miss the old days, reading descriptions and names of Porn channels on TV, just because they're ridiculous. The inside jokes, the inside jokes that our Math teacher tries to get in on because she put us on opposite sides of the room. I don't know what changed or how it did, because we drifted apart and we don't call each other every night anymore, we don't watch Colbie Callait serenade fat guys anymore on VH1 at 4:00 in the morning, because we are both insomniacs. We don't write at the same time anymore, because I don't write anymore. It's funny because I really only wrote for him. FictionPost is like 8th grade when every week we used to trade the newest chapters in our novels in progress, but high-tech. I miss sitting in the back of the bus, on a caffeine high, laughing at the sign for a restaraunt that they really need to rethink the wording of. I can't recall at the moment, but it was when we weren't exactly best friends yet, but bonding.

I miss laying on Katy's trampoline staring up at the stars, dreaming of New York. I miss looking online at apartments in New York because we are going to be room-mates there. And live what I've always dreamt of doing. What we both have. I miss sitting in Starbucks, pretending we belong there, when in reality, we're buying black coffee on accident and licking the whipped cream off of our straws in the least attractive way imaginable. I miss playing TMI outside of Starbucks with Chance's iPod playing The Ting Tings in the background. And doing the dance, and just acting like complete idiots wherever we go, because we're the trio and we're allowed to.

Well, it would be great if only I didn't transfer out of public school again, and I'm listening to Jesus Christ by Brand New, blogging, like the huge cliche I am.