Please Remember Me

So here I sit, with a notebook in my lap, attempting to recall every memory we ever had. Why? Well because he’s famous now. I’m almost ninety-nine percent sure that he would pick up the notebook I’m going to give him and laugh at how some twenty-one year old girl could write such stupid stuff.

I knew the day he moved to Vegas he would forget about me. I was kind of hoping he didn’t, but we all know that just wasn’t going to happen.

Truth was, I missed my best friend.