You know, I know you miss me
and the nights we had
and the times I told you I loved you
and the nights we rambled about nothing.
Yeah, you ******* miss me.
But I can't skate by knowing
I just let you walk away,
right on by.
And I hate myself for that.
But still, things could be like old times.
I don't know what's wrong with me. But this, this is me being angsty and ******* and immature and you know what, I don't care anymore because everything came rushing in and I wasn't ready. I've cried every night since that first message because I'm still so heart broken and pathetic. But I can't be mad at you. It's just impossible.