I have moved on. I promise. I even think I might love someone else, or at least could, if I can let myself.
I want you to know that he makes me happier than you ever made me. (Maybe I don’t want you to know that though.)
I guess I finally realized that I deserve someone who makes me laugh more than they make me cry.
But through all that, there are times when I still think of you; mostly of the old you, but you just the same. I just miss that person, not only my boyfriend, but also my best friend.
It’s especially hard when I see you, the new you. Smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk at noon, already high as fuck. I’m not in love with you anymore and I don’t even want to be with you. But I still love you. I still wish you’d get better.
I think I might fall in love again someday, sometimes I wonder if I already have.
It’s hard to give someone your heart though, when it’s already been so badly battered.
I guess you can take pride in the fact that you’re still with me, however much I try to let you out of my life. You’re here whenever I try to let someone in. You’re here whenever I try to open myself up. Even if I haven’t thought about you for weeks, you’re here. And you say, “Hey, remember me. You used to think I was a great person too, and look how much I hurt you. What makes you think he won’t change like I did?”
I wish you’d leave me alone.
And I wish I didn’t always expect disappointment.