Sometimes I think that after everything we went through you'll turn around and say you still care but then other times I think that you hate me because of all the things I said and all the things I must have put you through, but then sometimes I think that true love always finds a way and then I realize that maybe life is just a continuous stream of mistakes that we "learn from" or "learn to live with" but I think that I am going to hate my self for this for a very long time. I think that maybe we had the right thing at the wrong time and I think that maybe we should talk about it but you're not that kind of person, I don't want to be the kind of person who just waits for you to figure out what ever you're going through and put my life on hold. But then I can't imagine a life without you and I can't figure out what I am supposed to do and it hurts. You hurt me. But I suppose that's how I know it's real. Because it hurts this much. Because we both care and we both know it.
