I don’t know why I keep trying to convince you to become my boyfriend when it is clear you have no intentions of ever dating me. I don’t know why I let myself picture a future with you inside of my head when, realistically, I know that will never become a reality. I don’t know why I still like you after all of this time. After everything you have done to me. After all of the ways you have hurt me.

I don’t know why I keep texting you, hoping that you will write back to me, flirt back with me, when you have proven time and time again that I don’t matter to you. That you are okay with waiting days to answer me — or ignoring my messages completely.

I don’t know why I try so hard to convince myself there is a chance. A chance that you will answer me quickly this time. A chance that you will give me a sign that you care. A chance that you will come around. A chance that you will eventually want me, too.

I don’t know why I keep wasting so much time on you. Why I spend so many minutes of my morning getting dressed up for you, just in case we happen to see each other. Why I spend so many hours of my night shifting beneath my sheets, unable to stop thinking about you.

I don’t know why I keep reading into the little things that you do that don’t mean a thing. I don’t know why I keep convincing myself that the like you left on my picture means more than it appears. I don’t know why I tell myself that you are flirting with me in a subtle, almost imperceptible way, instead of admitting the truth. That you are never going to be mine.

I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself.

I don’t know why I keep thinking that things will change. That the results will be any different than the last time. I don’t know why I allow myself to get my hopes up when the story always ends the same.

I don’t know why I am so crazy about you, even though you have treated me like crap up until this point. You never answer messages from me. You always cancel plans with me. You flirt with other people in front of me. There is no reason for me to like you this much.

I don’t know why my feelings for you haven’t gone away yet, even though I have tried everything to get you off of my mind. I have tried telling myself to raise my standards. I have tried reasoning with myself. But nothing seems to work. You are always there, in the back of my mind.

I don’t know why I keep chasing after you — because you have made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with me. At least, not in the same way that I want you.