constantly have this feeling to talk to someone.
I'll never know him again, but
It's fine because life always makes a compensation for me.
Maybe it isn't fine.
Life shouldn't have compensations, especially not for lost loves.
Especially for this one-sided piece of bullshit I can't get out of.
He never writes to me.
He never tries to communicate.
It's depressing that I'm the one who has to say it all.
I think sometimes he's there, halfway across the world, still half-loving me.
Maybe he's found someone else by now.
That would probably piss me off for some reason.
I guess I should watch my words when I say, "you can forget me."
In all reality, I wanted him to keep me in his frontal lobe at all times.
I wanted him to miss me
And love me
And feel like maybe there was a chance that we could meet again.
Maybe there isn't.
It would be nice, just one more time.