You were here for maybe a month. We spent maybe a week together.
But I fell, and I fell hard. And I liked to think you were falling hard too.
And maybe you were, but maybe you were scared.
You didn’t know what to say, you just knew how to agree with a suggestion.
You didn’t have your own opinion on things, or you did and you just didn’t want to share it.
I don’t know why I still think about you.
What we had was obviously nothing,
but it somehow meant so much to me.
I fell so hard, so fast! And it’s not fair!
It’s not fair that I fell so hard,
and didn’t get any type of explanation for anything!
A few more drunken nights, and then no replies to any of my messages.
I liked to believe that you weren’t that type of guy,
and for some reason I still believe you aren’t that type of guy.
You just didn’t want to get so close to me,
and then end up hurting both of us.
But I just wanted to make the most of the time we had left,
and you didn’t.
You hurt me. I hurt myself.
But still I want you!
I want you so bad!
I hate this feeling.