complicated

J,
at this point i don’t even want to know how you did it, how you got so close and especially how you feel like home even if i barely know you. this is probably a mistake, thinking about you how i do, i’m only going to get hurt, but why does that feel worth it in my head? i want you to need me as much as i need you and the fact that you don’t is killing me. i wait for a text that doesn’t come every single night, and then i fall asleep with a single tear, a little bit of the hope i put on you goes away with it. at this point, you made me hate james arthur. i miss you.

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