la carta de amor

cincuenta y ocho

058

I guess this is it? It's over.

I won't try and message you again. Because I know, well, we both know that it's always me who tries to bring up a conversation.

And I know you won't even try to start up a conversation with me. But this week, I'll disturb you the most. I'll disturb you until you get used to it.

And when you do, I'll stop.

It's just funny how fast things change. On sundays, you're sweet. On mondays like this, you're cold. And I can't even predict you. I don't know how to read you.

I don't know what you feel. And I want to know how you felt when you told me you love me too.

Did you... perhaps regret it? But it's just a joke isn't it? I shouldn't give any meaning to any of it. It's just a fucking joke.

I know it is, but what I said was true. Maybe for you, it all may be a joke but for me it isn't.

I don't even know if you have slow internet connection or you're just ignoring me. It's confusing if I'd bother myself thinking about it. I'd just get confused. But I love feeling it.

And no matter how sweet you are to me now, or will be in the future, I won't give any meaning to it. Because I already did that in 7th grade, and boy, that hurt.

(3/27/2016)

ps. look at me being paranoid after telling him i love him lmaoooo! and @ old self: bessss nakakaisang araw palang! wag paranoid!