I wish I could write like I used to.
I used to stay up until 3am just writing pointless stories about my fantasies.
All night everynight.
Now I can hardly pull together an introductory paragraph.
Why am I still paying for the mistakes that you made? it’s ever so obvious that you cheated on him and broke his heart. Don’t get up me for giving him a few moments of pleasure when you were loving the other guy. I’m over it. It didn’t mean anything. If you love him so, you’re gonna have to move on because sweetheart trust me. Each time you’re in that car and you look in the mirror and view the backseat, I hope you see it. Me, him, the sweat, the moaning. I’m sure he see’s so much worse when he looks into your eyes. You got everything you deserved. I still hope to god he wakes up one day and realizes he deserves better!
Or does he?
Happiness, happiness is fine but it’s momentary. A momentary lapse of reality. Reality can wait for the moment, it can wait, I’m addicted to the chase of my happiness.
Hi Steph
“I like you” “I like you too” “I love you”
It crosses my mind every night when I close my eyes.
