Wishing it was you
11:40 p.m.

I read the last entry in this diary, and as much as I didn't want it, I felt my heart tug. I wished it was you who wrote that, even though I know that my wishes are beyond reality. The odds of it ever being you writing to me are unreal.

I hate that you still affect me, I hate the fact that I can't ever forget you. I hate the fact that no matter if I have someone else, I still dream of you.

I don't even know if I want your love anymore. When you started to warm up to me again after the wrongs of the past had ripped us apart, I asked myself again if I wanted you. Although I am loved by another, I have always had feelings for you. My friend asked me the other day if I had fallen for you again, and I told him that it was possible that I'd always had feelings for you.

Our past is a trainwreck, our future is a mystery. I barely even want you anymore, but you still wander my dreams at night.

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