i don't know if i am proud that he
loved me first or jealous because he
liked you last. some selfish part of
me still hopes that when i see him next
he will tell me that it's always been
me, even though i know i'd be too
scared to say it to him, and he deserves
better than that. i thought maybe
you could be that for him, but you
left too, and honestly, i'm furious
that you're not coming back
i don't even know what she looked like
but she's dead and i am scared