Twenty-seven (lit)

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Dear, Little

I took you number out of my phone. I deleted all the text and pictures I had of you. I'm trying to get you out of my head. I hate loving you. I hate sitting at "home" alone and drowning in thoughs of you. Why? Every song is about you. Every word is about you in some way. I can't escape you. The worse part is you don't care. You haven't cared. You think you have, I thought you have, you haven't. You couldn't have. All the things that were said and done. There is no way. You know, that's not even the worse part because it just keeps getting worse. I'd still love you if you gave me the chance. I'd still show you the world if you took my hand, still be a shoulder you cry on, I'd still be the punching bag. I'd still stand between you and danger if i got the chance. I'd still lose myself to find you.

That's not fair! It's not fair....
Nothing is fair.

I'm upset. I'm scared. I'm hurt. I'm so many things but I'm not over you. All I want is to be over you. I can't. I'm trying though. I can't keep looking at you and feeling broken, defeated, and weak. Have you noticed? I can't even look you in the face. I can't talk to you for long, I can't touch you. I can't be around you for to long because i don't want to look into your eyes and break all over again. I don't want to. I don't want to keep hurting and bothering people with the same story. I don't wanna fight with you about the same thing anymore.

I can't keep doing this.

Sincerely, ....

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