That’s all I needed. I just wanted to know you still cared.
I think about making amends with you everyday, even though I don’t know what I did wrong. I need a friend.
All I need to know is that you care. I just don’t want to put effort into something you’re not willing to put effort into. I care, but do you?
I hate how you never tell me the truth straight forward. You’d think I would know how to make my way around your obscure lies, but every now and then, I still believe you when you tell me something I just want to hear. If you say your deal is done, I’m going to assume it’s done. Not almost done, not pending, BUT FUCKING COMPLETE. Don’t ever give me the false hope of that again. I know we don’t have enough money for me to go to London like my “not-so-productive” brother and that’s okay. Just don’t give me false hopes.
I hope you have fun at Leigh. We got off an a good foot and now you’re leaving me. Good fucking job. Make fun of me all you want but I know you’ll never get anything accomplished there, then we’ll see who’s the joke.
Fuck you. But I’m not going to say anything to you. I don’t have time for you if you think I’m a joke that you can use to make small talk with other people. I’m not here for your entertainment.
I’m completely ready to be your friend, you’re just not ready to be mine.
I’m not going to let you walk all over me like that. If you can’t respect me, then I can’t be acquainted with you. I love you, but the world doesn’t revolve around you and I’m not going to take shit from you whenever you feel like giving it.
Every now and then, you climb right back into my mind. I still think about you, occasionally. The frequency of this occurrence is decreasing as time goes on. But I still miss us. I miss waking up to your morning breath and your pouting face. I miss playing with your thin hair and your back dimples. I miss laying in bed, talking for hours. I miss the intimacy we had. The sad part is that you didn’t have the decency to tell me your feelings stopped, instead, you created lie. It hurt like hell. Did you think I wasn’t going to find out? The fact of the matter is, you still exist, and so will our memories. But maybe, just maybe, I’m meant to remember you to protect myself. Or maybe you left me broken.
I say I don’t ever want to speak to or see you again, but in reality, I really want to won’t mind if we make amends.
Everywhere I go, you’re there. Not physically, but in some form. Get out of my head. Get out of my life forever.
I talk about like it’s all fun but I don’t enjoy it that much. Whatever keeps the dollah bills rolling in though :3
I dance like a stripper with “hairography” (glee term, look it up) when I’m listening to house music through my headphones.
