I know you think I'm some great mysterious person with whom you'd love to reconnect, but I regret to inform you that it is only me.
I remember when we used to talk, and that time you even called me; I can't tell you how much I loved that call. Though it took place nigh a year ago, I still remember. I doubt you do.
Sometimes I catch your ramblings of things you've done browsing through Facebook, and I can't believe how much you've changed in such a short span of time. You used to be shy and reserved, but now you're an insane party boy who loves nothing more than to drink and get high, and reveal as much of yourself as you can.
I'm impressed and dismayed.
I miss who you used to be, and how we'd interact, and now you're someone I can't relate to anymore. If you knew who I was, Mikee, you'd be dismayed to know that it's just me, who thought it'd be nice to humor you on formspring. I didn't expect it to blow into this, and it makes me smile to see you scramble to see who it was you've forgotten. To see you make an effort over me.
You're a wonderful person with such amazing talent and beauty no matter how much you claim to be ugly and all that, but I can't bring myself to talk to you again. You've forgotten me, so I must not have been that monumental to you, but you were (and are) to me, and that is why I'll have to continue watching you and how you progress from afar, as creepy as that sounds.
But hey, that's what Facebook is for, and I'm only glad that you haven't long since deleted me from your friends as some forgotten memory.