Tonight someone who wasn’t you said I was pretty. It wasn’t the first time that’s happened, but this time its different. I know that you love me, in what way I’m not sure. I know that you miss me, but you’re not doing anything about it. I’ve waited for you for 3 years. Always hoping one day I would be more than your second choice. Your “best friend”. I want you to know that if I keep talking to him, unlike not responding to all the guys who have tried to spark my heart in the last three years, I might move on. I want you to know that if I move on I’m not coming back. I never would’ve made you guess how much I loved you like all the others girls have. I’ve always been there for you, but you still always counted dimly lit stars while you could’ve had the moon. Now I’m finally starting to wonder if I’ve been doing the same.