You are so dead, and it’s killing me.
I love you dear. So much. I’m sorry for being difficult.
Do you know how grateful I am for you? I really really love you.
It’s so insignificant but it’s slowly tearing me apart. And the fact that I don’t know the whole story makes it so much worse. Cuz I can assume what I know is the worst, or I can assume that it’s the least worst….
I don’t think you’d ever have guessed that such a stupid thing could do this to me.
I don’t know why it hurts so bad.
Shoot me already?
Before the next weekend.
Before the next chance comes around.
Before I break.
Before I hide away.
Before I fail out of school.
Before you decide it’s time to have another serious talk with me.
Before you notice that I’ve been different.
Before anything else happens.
Please?
Yes, that is what I consider being pushed away.
