I’ve been trying my best to keep you out of my head, but these past few days, you’ve been ringing in my ears like an amp on 11.
I know that we’re not good for each other—that we’re like water and metal, and you can’t tell until it physically shows.
I know, it’s been months, but I have an addictive personality derived from my mother, and a burning temper from my father. I’ve told you before, it’s hard.
I fight the slight urge to message you, knowing all too well how bad an idea it would be; knowing all too well you would just be irrationally mean to me.
I talk to him instead, I tell him about the bad ideas festering inside my head, and he thankfully distracts and helps me through it.
I guess it’s like a disease—just gotta take it one day at a time.
It doesn’t hurt anymore, and I’m so happy for that. Though I’ve seem to have regressed in a way or two.. nights of “just going with the flow”—I don’t think I’m drinking or fooling around with these guys to get back at you anymore. No, I don’t even think it started out with you.
It just feels good to be wanted. And, when you couldn’t give me that anymore, I suppose I looked for that in other.. ‘bad’ places. I forgive myself for that, and I forgive myself for being so stupid and fragile with you.
I loved you, and I can only hope you maybe loved me a little too, if only for a short while. It was worth it—all the pain and anger and tears. I now know what I want and what I don’t. I can tell people to take their hands off me, and I’ve gained so much confidence from knowing you.
I realised that I stopped loving you the beginning of marching band last year. I suppose I just treated you like a game. I’m so glad I lost.
I beg of you to not look back at me/us in anger. If you see me, don’t give me that smirk you know I hate. And please, love yourself before you love someone else, because no one will be able to fill that hole you have quite the way you want them to. Not quite the way you could.