I start looking at past conversations as I wait for a reply, my heart has sank. I am shaking as if I'm standing in a winter wind, but I'm alone on my bed.
This girl that I once loved speaking to more than anything is terrifying but calming me all at once.
I get her answer, and I realize that she doesn't hate me. It's something far worse, I am no longer someone she cares for, I am unexistent to her, I am nobody.

And when she responded, some buried part of me that never sees the light wished that I was dead.
Perhaps I would be somebody then.