To think that I wrote to you when you were never mine.

Until now, I thought we were meant for each other.
Until now, I believed it was real.
Until now, I see that you only used me.

I hope you had fun.

I always wondered why illusions get to me so fast.
Why I give love to anyone, why I fall in love without thinking.
Why, whenever I told you “I love you,”
I believed your “Me too.”

And until now, I realize I was an idiot.
That I am an idiot.
For the simple act of falling in love with you—
For the simple act of falling in love alone.

    “All my friends tell me I should move on,
    But I’m still sinking into you.”

Plunging into your thoughts,
Drowning in the insomnia you cause day by day.

Or maybe…
I just miss you.
Although I guess you already know that.

Either way,
It doesn’t do any good if you know—
Because you can’t do anything about it.