Stay

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I love you.

I love you so much that my chest started to feel like it was burning. And when you said that I was yours and that you were mine, the only thing that was true was that I was yours but you were never mine.

All those days of getting out of bed just to see your smile, it kept me going. The only thing that kept me going was that beautiful smile that always seemed to make me so warm and content. But then I realized that I wasn't content anymore. I wanted more. I wanted more of you. It was selfish of me. I'm sorry.

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I'm such a fool for thinking someone as kind as you would reciprocate my feelings, let alone love someone like me. Was it my initial shock and overwhelming happiness that blinded me after seeing you go down on one knee, eyes filled with endearment and hope that I couldn't help but push away my doubts and treasure it for the rest of my life.

I was so glad. So, so glad that you were part of my life. I'm sorry that I was only a burden to you and to everybody else. I didn't want you to worry anymore, not again. If you would, I'd like you to forget me.

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I don't deserve your kindness, love, nor your time. It hurts me to say this but I knew. You don't have to tell me. I knew that you just wanted me to live most of my life as a happy one.

Please forgive me. I really do love you and I know that it'd be selfish of me to just throw everything away and forget those memorable days I had with you.

But please, please tell me you'll love me one last time. Please carry me around in your arms and then placing me onto the bed, telling me that you love me. Just like those times from when you loved me just as much I did. Even up til now, I still do. I love you so, so, so..much.

I love you.

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You agreed with my condition. And now, day after day, when you got home from work, you would carry me me in your arms like before. And each and every second, I cherished your touch every time you would do so. I must've been annoying, huh?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I wasn't good enough.

If I was good enough, you wouldn't have fallen out of love with me. But I guess, it was bound to happen. How could someone ever love trash so hideously disgusting and pathetic.

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Before you'd come back from work, I wrote letters. I was about ready for you to leave me for someone better. It hurts like hell. It hurted way more than how much I thought it should've.

I don't know how many times I've cut my wrists after finding out that you didn't love me anymore. I've lost count but it didn't matter. Nothing ever mattered. Nothing except you.

I wanted to make you fall in love me again, maybe that's why I had you do those conditions before leaving me. I wanted to break you just like how you broke me. I wanted you to love me just as much as I do. I wanted to know if you ever really cared. Even if it was just a bit left, I wanted to know if you still had love left for me.

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I sobbed to myself as I stared into the mirror, looking at my horrid complexion. I look so pale and skinny. No wonder, he doesn't love me anymore.

I wanted to slam my fist across the reflecting glass that portrayed my disgusting face and body.

I slumped down and laid against the bathroom walls before curling up to my knees, hot tears streaming across my cheeks as I wiped away the snot from my utterly disgusting face with my sleeve.

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