Untitled.
These days,
Death seems sweet.
Disappointment
It's taken me years to get over you. I'll admit that I've liked you for that long. At least, I'll admit it here, where I'm fairly certain you'll never find it. That's okay, probably better this way anyway. But all that aside, I doubt I'll ever actually tell you how I felt all that time, and especially not after the realization I've come to recently about you. I've realized that liking you has been masochistic for me. I always knew I would never want to tell you how I felt, and I never liked you enough to have an actual, plausible hope that we would someday be together. No. I'm a realist, and I never hoped for something I knew would never happen. But I'm almost thankful that you showed your true colors, who you really are. Becuase seeing you act so pathetically, so disgustingly eager to please someone else, has made it easy to realize you never deserved to be on the pedestal I'd had you on for so many years. So if I could, I would...
