It hurts because you are happy. With another man, and not me. It hurts because you tell me you love me but it's just in the friendly kind of way. People always say we have skinny love, but it's the love that makes you flinch. Because you don't love me in that way. It hurts because the blade across my skin hurts less then when the house is silent at night. Without SpongeBob SquarePants playing at 1:30am, or the sound of you making some sort of silly SnapChat and failing over and over again to get the right lighting. It hurts because I want you. More than you know. We always tease the fans with Scömiche endings of Sup3rfruit, but the only one you are teasing is me. I wish it could be. I love you, scott.
