“It has now become a part of my daily routine, missing you. I wake up with the familiar ache in my chest. I shower and try and rinse away the dreams of your hands touching me. I catch myself thinking of your smile in class. I lay in the dark and convince myself that I will be just fine, that I don’t need you. I wake up, and repeat.”
Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell. I miss you so badly.
I met a new guy.
and he treats me right.
Yet I still can’t stop thinking about you
and the things you said.
You said you would always love me
but you didn’t.
You said you would always be there for me
but you left.
And you said that I was going to be okay
but I’m fucking not.
The thing that makes it worse
is that I can’t blame you.
Despite all of your venomous words
and your icy touch,
I can’t blame you for not wanting me anymore.
But I can blame me.
I can blame me for being a little too sad all the time
and for being a little too hard to love.
I don’t hate you
But I do hate me.