No really, it's okay babe I adore you too, you can keep breaking my heart and expecting me to pick up all the pieces. It's okay, because I like being told that I'm second best, and I like being reserved for sloppy nights. So let me dive between your legs babe, no, really it's okay, you can tell me you don't like me then call me at 2 in the morning to come ****. No, really it's okay, it's okay because I liked you but you only liked my skin, but only when it was bare, and really, it's okay, because I like being ignored and I like second guessing myself, and my life, and I enjoy being punished. So babe let me please you, that's all I want to do because dear god, I just want to keep you. God knows I want to keep you, and how ******* cruel of him to keep raking me over the same coals over, and over, and ******* over until my skin doesn't know the difference between fire and your touch on my thighs begging for more. (maybe it is my fault) But when they began to close, you began to retreat. And *******, you'll never know how much I wanted you, and you'll never know how badly you hurt me, and you'll never know how badly I wanted you to want me. But you didn't want me, I was too real for you. I was too much of a human being, and you couldn't ******* handle it. I did things not because I enjoyed it, but because that's the only way I could get your attention. So really babe, it's okay. Keep talking to me until 4 in the morning when I have to be up at 5, keep changing normal conversations into sexts you won't remember in a week. And please, babe, keep ignoring me because if that's what you have to do to tolerate me every couple of months, then for gods sake, ******* do it. Keep vaguely answering my pleas with "yep," "yeah," and "haha." Please keep hurting me. Because I ******* need it, babe. Really, it's okay, I'm fine, I'm not filled with anxiety and on the night you talked to me, I didn't spend it in the bathroom getting sick. No babe, it's okay, I like sleeping in the bathtub and waking up in a cold sweat, and I like lingering on the good feelings because it makes it that much easier to forget about the bad ones. I deserve you. I deserve to be with someone who is so capable of dropping me like a penny in a wishing well, only to forget what your original intentions were. No. Babe, really. It's okay. I'll keep skipping over the same songs, and driving past the same spots, and running away from what's chasing me, because really, we all knew I was going to do that anyway. All my friends say that I looked so happy when I knew that you liked me but I don't think you ever did. And I'm afraid to ask you. Because the variable is already known, and I don't feel like accepting it. So I'll keep looking for 'x' even though it's right the **** in front of me. ******* Vanessa, get your **** together. Stop drinking every Wednesday night and waking up every Thursday morning wishing you were somewhere else. The people are right, Vanessa, you feel way too ******* much and maybe you should stop letting your existence as a human get in the way of you ******* the people you want to ****, because we both know he's not going to wait for your ***. So really, babe, it's okay. I'll keep searching while secretly holding space for you in my bed. You said yours was bigger, but trust me, it's not. It never was. So really babe, it's okay. it's okay. I told you that the thing I hated the most was lying, but really. It's okay.