In the Dark

I made a mistake.

I wrote you a long message.
I told you I forgave you.
And that I missed you.

I cried out of happiness when you said you missed me too.

Finally something went right.

But it was 12 am.
I wasn't thinking straight.

What turned out to be the best mistake became the worst.

You thought I wanted you back.

Well I fcking don't.

Every time you told me you loved me that night, I felt guilty.

Every time you told me I was hot, or cute, I felt like a whore.

You thought you were making me happy. But you were killing me.

All the strings are breaking. I told you.

You thought I was your project. That you could fix me. You acted like it was a game.

No one can fix me. Only myself.

Funny thing is, you are eight months older than me.

I moved on before you.
I'm way past moving on.
I'm done with you.

Your childish antics.
Saying you need me.

You don't need me.
You just need the attention.

But somehow, I couldn't do it.
I couldn't tell you good bye.

I couldn't put the once blazing fire out.

She put it out for me. She was righT.

b would be proud.
No. He would be angry.
I'm sorry b.
I know you helped me.
I care about you a lot.
Not him.
I miss you, b.

I'm wasting my breath on something that's not even worth my precious thoughts.

383 miles is a lot, J.H., and I'm 383 miles past over you.

My New York styled southern boy
Has gone sour.

I've made a mistake.

You better fcking read this J.H.
I wasted 265 words on you, and a year of my life.