I could get on here every night and talk about how sad I am when I’m alone, how hurt I feel when you cross my mind. I could think about how you didn’t like the fact I put a picture of us on twitter cause that’s commitment but you’ll upload a picture of you and
her because ya’ll were just hanging out. Or the night I called you when I was coming in and out of consciousness from drunkenness cause I wanted to talk to you so fucking bad, only for you to tell me you’re gonna do what makes you happy, & the only thing that came to mind was that’s not me. I’m not who makes you happy. when you can put a smile on my face so effortlessly. how everything i did was just trying to make you happy. like how i would stay up until 11:40 at night just so you had someone to talk to after work. or how i text you good morning every morning, and throughout the day. why wasn’t any of that enough? I could talk about all the shit I did for you, or all the shit I been through cause of you & it wouldn’t change a thing. & it’s a shame the only person I care to talk to is the one who is asleep in someone else’s arms right now.