I can't tell you what I want to
11:08 p.m.

I miss you. I know I said I wouldn't, but I do. Six years, and for what? I never even saw it coming. I was there for you. If you wanted something, I supported you. I put my dreams on the back burner to make sure you reached yours.

I think the worst part, though, is that I need you. I told you that I didn't, but I do, just like the missing you. I see you every day and I want to start a conversation like nothing ever happened, but you just stare at me like my skin is covered with open sores. I am a blight on your existence now. What did I do to become that? I just need to talk to you...

It's not the touching or the teasing, it's the deep conversations we would have at one in the morning about crazy stuff only we could think up. It's knowing that at the end of every day I could unwind by going through my day with you and you with me.

I don't know why suddenly I have "baggage." I'm the same person I have always been. You aren't.

God help me, I hope you burn in Hell for the way you treated me, for the way you treat most people now. I think you will. Dante described it pretty well... "abandon hope all ye who enter here."

Maybe you should wear that sign around your heart.

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