I don’t know why I’m writing this.
You won’t read it.
Maybe I just need to get it out before it eats me alive.

I can’t stop wanting you.
It’s pathetic, I know.
It’s been months.
Time stopped meaning anything when you left.

I still dream about you.
Sometimes I wake up and for a split second,
I forget that you’re gone.
I reach across the bed like an idiot,
and all I find is cold sheets and my own emptiness.

Why won’t you leave me?
Or maybe — why won’t you come back?
I don’t even know which one I want more anymore.

I replay everything.
Every message. Every glance. Every tiny moment.
Looking for the place where I could’ve made you stay.
But there’s nothing. Just the same ending, over and over.
You, gone. Me, still here.

I would ruin myself for you again.
I would break every promise I made to myself.
I would throw away every piece of healing just to feel you one more time.

God, I hate this.
I hate that I love you this much.
I hate that I need you like air I can’t breathe.

I don’t know how to stop.
I don’t even know if I want to.

If you came back tomorrow,
I would open the door.
No questions. No hesitation.
I’d let you in.
I’d let you wreck me all over again.