After living without you all through out entire college, it still hurts. I see your posts, and it hurts. I hear stories, it hurts.
It hurts me so much that you don’t even want me. That you don’t even think about me. That you’re fine.
It hurts all over.
You wanna know the reason why I’m no longer texting you? It’s because I find it disrespectful to your girlfriend. You want us to hide this, whatever this is or was, and it’s unnecessary. Hiding makes it seem like we’re doing something that would hurt her, or something that’s betraying her, and I don’t want that.
I know this is some kind of friendship, but sometimes your compliments are offhanded and sending mixed signals. I appreciate them very much, I really do, and it’s nice coming from you. Sometimes it makes me wonder if there is more to it than just compliments.
I’m not mad, I’m just being careful with what I do.
I’m still your friend, but unless you let her know about this, I don’t think we should constantly text each other.
OMG. I’m really sorry. I read your message just now, and I, uhm, haven’t been looking here, exactly. I have no idea when was this message and I apologize for not being able to answer it .
Anyway, as I have said, I haven’t been looking here. I haven’t been exactly checking what’s up, and after my last post, I just can’t seem to write anymore. :(
The last time I wrote here was April, and it’s almost gonna be the end of the year, I’m not making a promise that you’ll see something here, but I’ll try.
Again, I’m sorry, and I wanna let you know I miss writing as well.
Just because it said Dear Boy. :)Thank you for letting me be myself for that one beautiful night and for liking me for me. I haven’t been that happy in so long, so I’m going to try to get to know you better.
Love,
Girl.
How come you won’t tell your parents about me and you?
Are you scared?
I think they would be happy for you.
Love,
Me.
I love:
The way you smile.
The way you laugh.
The way you talk.
The way you dance.
The way you attempt handstands, and stuff, and fall on your ass so hard.
I miss the times when we texted each other so much.
We had so much to say.
Why can’t things just go back to be like then?
Love,
Me.
When I do stuff that makes you upset, feel hurt, want to cry,
I’m experiencing the same things too.
I do all that, just to know that you still feel for me.
Don’t you see that?
Love,
Me.
If you ever think of me, I hope you do so with a mixture of longing, curiosity, pain, and sweetness. But mostly pain.
