I always thought you’d come back. I thought we would always be, well, us. We’d say something things, you would leave, but you’d always come around. You always did, but this time, this time you turned your back and left, with not even a glance back at the mess you left behind. This time it was different. You never came back, and well as much as I hate to admit it, I miss you. Look at what you’ve done.