I was rummaging through my room in search of any notebooks I had left at my house. I found one with my story ideas in it and thought it would be full of them, but I was wrong. There's some story material, some Latin, some playlist ideas, and this:

I blared my music and realized I'd made the perfect playlist for my mood. It wasn't "the pursuit" but the end. The beginning of something else. Something darker under the sun, something waiting to be hit with light. The heat hits me now that you're gone. It swells my hair and puts a blush on my skin. It pushes me back. You left and I turned my back. I hid my thoughts in my music. I let the music consume me until I couldn't tell which thought was mine first or theirs.

This still pisses me off. It took me so long to finally find the cause of my initial sadness. It was the fact that you fucked up everything we had had. You made a royal mistake and I had to end our friendship all together. You fucking ruined this song.