Noah was a mix of nostalgia, ptsd, and heartache. Simple things reminded me of Noah, certain songs, certain smoothie flavors, and they all sent me back to a state of lust and wishful loving desire that hurts so badly. There was so much I wanted to say to Noah, if he allowed himself to fall in love with me I would have fallen in love with him too. I brushed off the pain he caused me, casually, because I was embarrassed. Embarrassed of the fact that I allowed the pain to happen, I was basically asking for him to hurt me. But what was the most embarrassing part was that no matter how much he hurt me, no matter how long he was gonna string me along, I would never cut him off. I would rather have him cause me pain than lose him. Everything felt right, everything felt perfect.
He had gotten his first love out of the way, I had gotten mine out of the way too. How stupid I was to believe that I could be the second love. I had never felt so pathetic, my feelings for Noah were pathetic. I shouldn't like him and care for him so much anymore, but I couldn't help it, I just did. Every time I let myself heal, and I thought I had moved on, somehow, someway he would come crawling back into my life again. I was getting better, I wasn't so much at his beck and call anymore. But then again, he didn't exactly call me anymore so it's not like I could test that theory. Every time I tried to forget, I just couldn't.
