I don't think you'll ever understand. I was only in third grade, so were you. When we were both in first grade you had to move away, the first of many. We made a promise to send letters to each other, and I did so did you. It was terrible, but it was better than not communicating at all. It was going fine you know, I knew about your new dog, and you even gave me every phone number you knew. The problem was, that was the last letter I received from you. For almost two years I sent you letters randomly, you never responded. One day I look under my bed and grabbed that box of letters from you, it's still there to this day. I had remembered you had given me your parents phone number. I texted your mom, and she replied, she even gave me your number. I texted you and you responded. I'm pretty sure you gave some lame excuse why you didn't ever write me back. You also promised to write me back, when I received that letter I was scared. Your handwriting was the same as the girls I couldn't stand, and you sounded like them too. I didn't write you back, I didn't want to be friends with you, because you had become the person you would have become in first if it wasn't for me. You had become the kind of person who I just couldn't stand. So I don't really know who's fault it was that we don't talk anymore. I could just as easily blame you, while you can blame me. I think nevertheless I regret not trying harder. I shouldn't blame you, you didn't cause this, it was all me.