Today I realized that I keep looking at my own Facebook profile over and over obsessively because I am trying to figure out what is wrong with me.  Like…why…why aren’t you talking to me anymore?

And I don’t know what to do about that, you know?

I want to just be able to toss it off and not give a fuck about you, but I can’t.

You’ve been sitting there in the back of my mind for so many years I don’t know how to organize the back of my mind without the place you normally fill there.


I know.

You haven’t thought about me that way.

But I have thought about you.

And I think in cases of unrequited love the person pining always thinks that maybe deep down the person they love thinks about them in exactly the same way.  When we find out they don’t it just doesn’t compute.  We’ve spent so much time and effort believing.  Believing.


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