I can't be sober

i wish you would prove me wrong. i miss you so much sometimes, being your friend was such a warm feeling, like home. but homes crumble and fall, don't they? you don't really care about me enough to talk to me, and i guess i have to live with that. in a week, I'll be gone and living my best life, and I won't bring you anything, not even a little souvenir. after all, we're not even friends. but hey. whatever. I'm too drunk for my own good anyways.