I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about you. Really.
I mean, at the beginning we were having so much fun. We really were. I actually thought we had a future together, me and you.
It's my fault, I know. I really should have kept the lines open. We fell apart. We lost touch. I get it. Stupid me.
If only how you knew how I really felt about you. It fucking kills me that you don't. You kick your own ass telling yourself how ugly you are, how dumb, how lame you think you are but you're not. You're more than that. Much more.
You're funny and you're talented and no matter what people say you're beautiful. You always will be. You may not fit the mold that everyone else is used to but that's their problem, not yours, and definitely not mine.
You have no fucking idea how it kills me so much that you're madly in like with someone else. No fucking idea at all. How it feels when your insides are rotting every time this one person you care about so much is off swooning over someone else and you're forced to pretend that you're happy. That everything is all right.
Actually I have no idea either. Am I or aren't I? Is what I'm feeling for you just this unusually immense affection--or something more? Or something less?
I don't know. I really don't; I'm sorry. I'm not even sure what love is supposed to feel like. Sue me.
I guess this is something I really have to think over.
I miss you. I miss us.
We're still there, still having fun. But from all angles, we've slowed down. Now I wonder if this is all we'll be forever, or if this will turn into something else.
What else can I say? I'm just some fucked-up kid. I don't know anything anymore.
