“Your words are full of honesty, the kind I breathe, the kind that cuts me deep. And I am grasping for air, I’m gasping for air now. Yesterday feels like a fresh wound, still I insist it’s just a flesh wound. This is my reply for all the pain you put me through. Don’t count on me, don’t count on me for anything. Don’t count on me, don’t count on me for anything. Looking back at all the words I sent you, I’m doing my best to forget you. But it still remains your name, the bitter taste on my tongue. I can’t forget your kiss, or the venom on your lips. This is gonna leave a scar, I am wounded.”
So here I am, breaking my promise. I keep writing about you even when I say I'm not going to. You were right, I AM a compulsive liar...but not about the things you accused me of. I can't even imagine writing about any other boy with the same intensity and feeling as I do with you. It's just impossible for me to think about. I'm here because I'm honestly tired of this. I can't stress it enough. I don't ever want to love another besides you. It kills me to even think about you telling other girls the things you once said to me. I hate this. I absolutely hate this. I wish we could completely start over, a clean slate. Maybe then, we could do it right.
So here I am, in all my fatality, giving every last part of me to you. Screaming at you from the inside how much I love you, how much I can't stop loving you. Ignoring you on the outside because I can't take the pain you cause me any longer. Telling you that I love you, and deep down I know, I always will. Knowing that it's not good enough for you. And learning that I will have to deal with it and live with this painful fact for the rest of my life.
And here you are, not even acknowledging my existence because all I ever was to you was the girl who loved you irrevocably.
Oh, you know, don't sweat it. It doesn't hurt THAT bad when I don't think about it.
