Sorry.

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My heart tore into two. I know there's nothing I can do to change your mind, though.

I can continue to ask you via social media, but obviously that's getting me no where. You aren't going to give me a solid answer.

And I could ask you in real life. I mean, I certainly could do that. I could if I wasn't too scared to.

Scared to know the answer.

Not only the answer
I'm scared of you.

I'm scared knowing you would have no hesitation to hurt me if I made you mad.

When I see you, I go out of my own way because I don't want to bother you.

When I have to be in the same area as you, I keep glancing at you. Making sure you're ok.

I always hope that you don't see me looking at you.

I hope you don't see me checking on you and feeling intimidated.

But, there's a part of me wishing I'd see you looking back at me.

And when I see you don't ever look at me, I know I never cross your mind.

And that makes me break more.

I'm breaking because I care about you. I don't mean I-have-a-crush care about you.

I genuinely care about you.

And it breaks me that even thought I care about you, I can't make you care about me.

And even thought you don't care about me, there's always this awful thing.

I'll never stop caring about you.

But when I care about you, sometimes I wish you would care about me.

Or someone would care about me.

Even though you probably hate me now, I would with no hesitation help you if I saw you needed it.

If I ever see you breaking like I am, I'll help you.

Because I know how it feels to be breaking.

To be breaking and no one to notice. Either no one notices or they don't care.

And I don't want anyone I love to feel like I do right now.

So, fine, hate me.

I know you're never going to read this...

But if you hate me, I guess there's nothing I can do about it.

Because I'll never be able to bring myself to hate you.

I'll always care about you.

And it makes me mad.

I hate that I'll always care about yourself.

I know that if anyone asked about me, I'd be the girl that "screwed up."

The one that you used to be friends with.

The girl you don't care about anymore and never will.

And if anyone asks about you, I'll tell them about you.

The truth.

And I might tear up every night thinking about you.

Thinking about what I did wrong.

Sobbing every single night.

But it's not your fault.

Even if it was tour fault, you wouldn't care.

But it's not your fault.

It's my fault.

After all of this, I just want to know what I did wrong.

But you'd never tell me.

You don't have to.

Why would you explain yourself to someone you hate?

I know I did something wrong.

I'm sorry.

I know that means nothing to you, though.

And again, I know you'll never read this.

But I had to tell you.

And even if you never read this, it was worth it.

I keep tearing up.

I'm sorry.

I care about you, and I'll never stop.

Even if you hate me,

I'll always try to help you.

Even if you don't know, I still stick up for you.

Because I still think of you higher than me.

I'll always care for you.

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