I’ve hit that pathetic point. You no longer want to see me, or talk to me, but I sit here craving you. Broken. In a million pieces. With no one to turn to.
I wish you could see how broken I really am. How messed up my life has become. I went from having it together to being held together by a tiny piece of string.
How do you like her? And not me?
If I understood, it wouldn’t be as hard.
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