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[31 Oct 2009|02:07pm] |
dear fucking tim.
what happened? how did you go from being so in love with me it made me nervous to not giving a shit about me? how did we go from me being skeptical and not expecting it to start, let alone last, to me sitting here crying wondering what I did or said or didn't do that made you stop liking me. How did you turn me into such a fucking cliche? why do i have to sit here and wonder if you fucked someone else while you were with me? DID you? You probably have since we broke up, anyway. at least one girl. You told me once in a moment of honesty that you've dated 38 girls. You've reduced me down to a number. I'm now number 39. You used to tell me about your ex's a lot. I wonder what you'll tell people about me. If you'll tell people about me. Maybe I don't even qualify. Long distance doesn't count or something. I keep replaying everything over. and. over. what the fuck did i do wrong? I tried not to be clingy. I was attentive when you talked, I didn't talk too much, I tried to give you everything you wanted. So why am I the one left feeling like shit? I am so tired of talking about you, thinking of you. Did you know I can't even fucking touch myself without thinking about you? That was more than anyone who's reading this wanted to know, but you were the first person I showed EVERYTHING to. I told you things I've never told anyone.
And you threw it all back in my face.
Fuck you,
number thirty nine.
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