You've started to realize that he doesn't need you as much as he used to. You two used to be like best friends, two peas of a pod and almost never apart. Though as the years grew on and Roach had to put up with more and more of your mental issues, he slowly began putting his other friends before you.

"When I was just a kid, we'll call it 15 or so, I found myself annoyed by a syndrome of sorts in my bones," You would sometimes start off with, complaining about your poor social skills and failed attempts at making friends. "That girl who was next to me, she found herself bored to tears. She realized that if she wanted conversation, she's out of luck for three more years."

"When I moved away from home, 100 miles or so," You vaguely recall rambling to him, tipsy after an alcohol-filled celebration for a successful mission, "I knew a change had grown inside my awkwardly long limbs and bones." You always missed how he used to comfort you, often pulling you down so that you're leaning against his shoulder as you two watched old cartoons together.

"That girl who was next to me, she was friendly and thoughtful and quite awfully pretty. But all she has to say is a meat head-themed monologue on why Brad ran away," You vented to him one night, frustrated about one of the girls who sat next to you on your elementary school bus. "She said, 'All I can hope for is for me to get better, because all I can take is no more. I'll win him back again, we'll be lovers, best friends. He won't need no other woman like he did way back when he was with me.'"

"He needed more than me. I'm friendly and thoughtful and quite awfully pretty, but he needed more than me," You would cry into his shoulder, sobbing about some guy who dumped you in highschool for a popular girl that didn't even want him back.

However, those ramblings slowly became less and less frequent, before stopping completely... You eventually find yourself alone, sulking in your bed, as Roach posts another picture on Facebook of him and Ghost fishing.