ninety-four

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dear john,

i want to forget about you.

and i mean to never have met you, or fell for you, or let you help me, or relied on you, and to not be wondering if it would hurt a lot less if you didn't exist.

i can't work out if you actually care about me.

i want you out of my life if you won't give me a straight answer, john.

do you love me?

but i don't want to know the answer. not yet. it's going to hurt when i hear the word "no."

love, me.

p.s. my wrist stings.

dear johnWhere stories live. Discover now