No matter what distractions I have for myself, which homework I have to do, which people I can spend my time with, what movies I could watch, music to listen, which thoughts ram together, I can't escape the fact that I end up thinking of you.
And how you won't be here. How we just went seven days with out anything, and when we finally reach each other, you tell me you're leaving. Sometimes I want to force myself to be mad at you for choosing to leave because I want to avoid being sad. I can't even talk about you. I can't even think of you.
When I watched Dear John the other day, every part of me was shaking to tears because I kept thinking of you. And the movie was shitty, but I kept thinking of you anyway.
When we cried there by my doorway yesterday, when you watched me cry and cry and not say anything and not look at you. When I let myself pour out the thought of not having you. I hate this. I hate this. And I hate that you're gone.
I want to go back. I want to go back so that I can have you again. I just want my best friend. I want to piss and moan and cry and throw a fit and scream and yell and call out for you. I want to go back. If anything.
These three months will hit me like a big swollen rock. Seven days was a long time. The longest we went with out each other. I counted every day and thought about every day. And I missed you every day.
I can't believe you're not here anymore. Three months already feel like the longest days of my life.
My last words to you,
I love you.
And how you won't be here. How we just went seven days with out anything, and when we finally reach each other, you tell me you're leaving. Sometimes I want to force myself to be mad at you for choosing to leave because I want to avoid being sad. I can't even talk about you. I can't even think of you.
When I watched Dear John the other day, every part of me was shaking to tears because I kept thinking of you. And the movie was shitty, but I kept thinking of you anyway.
When we cried there by my doorway yesterday, when you watched me cry and cry and not say anything and not look at you. When I let myself pour out the thought of not having you. I hate this. I hate this. And I hate that you're gone.
I want to go back. I want to go back so that I can have you again. I just want my best friend. I want to piss and moan and cry and throw a fit and scream and yell and call out for you. I want to go back. If anything.
These three months will hit me like a big swollen rock. Seven days was a long time. The longest we went with out each other. I counted every day and thought about every day. And I missed you every day.
I can't believe you're not here anymore. Three months already feel like the longest days of my life.
My last words to you,
I love you.
