I just realize that I’m kind of dumb, with way too high of expectations and still, I’m hoping that you would care. Even though, I know you wouldn’t, you won’t.
I’m still giving myself mercy for loving you this much and not planning on moving on, just because I’m afraid of being this hurt again. I’m complaining or even blaming you, but I’m just shocked of this truth I got inside my mind. I am not special for you anymore and you have better things to do or think about, than giving a glance on how I still feel about you. It doesn’t change a bit.
And this is one of the reasons why I hate weekends. I got so fucked up, with nothing to do and all I be able to do is lay everywhere I can and put you upfront of my mind. Wondering, waiting for you to care enough to talk to me.
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