A decade after we actually broke up, I still considered you a dear friend. I came to your show when you visited my town on tour for your music. A dozen people in the audience, and I danced like a fool the whole time to stoke you up.
But you’ve always been egotistical and scattered. You kept downsizing the amount of time you would spend with me on your days in town until it was just a dinner, then just five minutes in a stairwell where you confessed you were depressed, before rejoining the random groupies you’d chosen over me.