Every story has similar beginnings, a person who is faced with a choice.
I wish I hadn't chosen you.
I wish you hadn't looked at me the way you did.
I wish you hadn't decided that you wanted to speak to me.
I wish you had never opened your beautiful lips and let those words slip.
I wish I hadn't been stupid enough to think I'd ever be good enough for you.
I wish you never found out about my feeling, go back to the simplistic time where your eye contact would make my heart skip a beat.
Maybe if you hadn't found out I could have avoided this horrible, dreaded feeling of loneliness. This irreplaceable feeling that no person could ever be capable of loving me the way I love you.
I wish you could forget the past and not look at me with disgust, to be honest I have began to allow that face to be default.
I expect the painful hate your eyes fill with when you notice me.
I understand the fact that I shouldn't be allowed to love anybody who I know won't love me back.
I'm sorry I chose you.
I'm sorry I feel.
