at the very bottom of everything

The truth is I miss it. Had the circumstances been slightly different maybe I wouldn't have to miss it. I try so hard to act like I don't care anymore. Then I catch a memory. Something not riddled with hurt. And the most alive I felt was when I hurt you. And I'm bitter as hell that I don't even get to really miss you. I don't love you and as bad as this sounds I wish I still did. I wanted to cry over you, I wanted to be so riddled with regret that I couldn't make my self wake up. I missed two days of school after we broke up. And not even for you, because I had a cold. Honestly I only want two things. To have never called you, or to have every person who pried into this never care about it.

Every time I get the mail I want you to have sent me something.
Every time chris calls me at exactly 9PM I want it to be you.
Every time I go to postsecret I want one to be from you.
Every time people talk about their love I wish I could say I still love you. but I don't.

It's not fair. I need t hold up in my room crying for days, Listen to depressing music, and look at something you sent me and remember something nice about you.

Nearly a month later I hate whats happened. I lied. I hate you. I hate you for ever saying you love me, for ever calling me muffin, for calling me your Texas Adie, and I hate me for ever trusting you.
Posted on December 22nd, 2009 at 06:00pm


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