Up until yesterday, I was fine.
I don’t hate you; I can’t.
Sometimes the things that are most toxic can make us feel our brightest, give us the happiness everyone craves.
I once read somewhere that loving someone is giving them a gun and trusting they won’t pull the trigger. But you did, didn’t you? Was it on purpose? I know that my shot wasn’t, but maybe you didn’t even feel that graze.
I like hanging out with you, is that bad? I like you. But that really doesn’t matter, does it?
I feel abandoned and alone and that boy didn’t text me back again and it hurts more than it should and if I now tell you that I am not okay and that I need you and you turn me down, well, not sure my heart could take that.