wyattfan27

I think the reason I’m still hung up on you’s my own fault. what’s it called? adding salt to the wound, handing you chances you won’t take, and again to you I crawled. hauled ass back, stalled facts and ignored red flags. though my feelings mauled, sprawled out in my room, bawled eyes to the tune of “Something In The Orange”. I scavenge the last remnants of our relationship too. us two at the movies, worries all gone, carefree as could be. you see, that’s why I sent you those drunk texts at 3 AM, upset and let these thoughts into my head, we have another chance. regrets on things I said back then and things I didn’t do, like tell you I loved you? held hands in church pews, said “I do” I fight but it comes through, I might shut it out too. a light, blow it out, phew. I need to stop. I’ll look back on old snaps, what a lapse in judgement. I covet what I can’t have. obviously, cause i give you one more chance, you won’t take it and I know it too. I just need to blow off fumes, hope ensues, one more excuse, no more time to deduce, your thoughts musta changed. I might actually be deranged at this point, I’m thinking, laughing, having just asked you once again, no we can’t be more than friends, the trends obvious, genius! Jesus! you’re my biggest weakness, your sweetness leaves me speechless, so I try once more, I say while knowing I need to let go. nothing will happen no more can be done. at this point I don’t even like you, just the feeling of what was. why do I come back even though I’m done with us. it’s really just familiarity I’m holding onto, the clarity you gave me is I guess what I still want. it’s not you anymore, I’m healthier now, you weren’t even good for me, you see, we had very different needs. and we were at different maturity levels too, clearly. actually, I’d say that was a stretch, you were always so smart, and held your heart on your chest. though, it’s time to let go, so goodbye, have a nice life, goodluck in uni too! you’ll do great things without me here supporting you. you don’t need it, and neither do i. goodluck with softball, aim for the skies.  it’s always hardest letting someone go.