It seems like forever ago

That we talked. Like, really talked. The kind of talking you do while looking up at the stars. I miss that. I miss being that honest with somebody. I think it's something about the stars that makes me so honest.
I miss having that sort of friend. Sometimes I try to find another person like you, that I can just be that honest with, but it never really works. I think I scare them off by doing things that could probably be construed as me being a little too into them, or a little too honest, or a little too ... weird.
All I really want is someone to watch the stars with, to talk about things that are too deep for coffee, to climb trees and steal golf balls with, to get excited about my new dog. A friend. That's all I really want.
So I write. I write, and I consider taking up smoking until I realise that I don't even really like the smell of smoke and that smoke in my lungs would probably ruin my voice, and that's about the only secret I have left that I haven't ruined or shared with anyone yet, and then I read a million different books at once, and climb trees by myself and fall asleep in front of Antiques Roadshow and get really annoyed that I missed it, and I paint my nails an ugly colour and realise that I don't have nail polish remover, and get the same songs stuck in my head at the same time every day, and consider walking to K-Mart to look at toys but decide against it because I did it yesterday and the day before. I wish that I had internet to google things, I contemplate going to the AGNSW again, just to look wistfully at the victorian exhibition and hold in my tears because it seems to be lacking decorum to cry and show emotion in a gallery full of pretentious middle aged pseudo- art critics, I take photos of the sunset that I see every day, because I forget how beautiful it was the day before, and think that I should probably go get all my film developed before I go and buy more, and try and unsuccessfully remember what has happened since that first roll went in to my camera. And I jump on my trampoline and clean my kitchen and make countless cups of tea while I sing until my grandparents come to the door where I will jump out of my skin and wish that someone else would just drop by.