I used to think that it would always be you.

That it was going to be you who I told everything to. That if I were to laugh it would be because of you.

That it would be you two years later.

But it wasn't you a month later, or even two weeks later.

You don't realize how blind you are until you step out of the dark and into the light.

Truthfully it was never you. And I don't know if that makes me happy or sad.