I sit in my bed trying to study and then this poet comes up, B******. Hey, it's not like I haven't been thinking about you. I have, a lot. But this is just... well. It makes me remember stuff. I miss you. I really liked you, you know? It was so hard turning you down. It was one of the most terrible decissions I've ever made.
But I can't ask you to come back because first of all, I'm proud. You are proud too. If I knew you were willing and able to love me... or at least to try and do, well. That would be another thing. But you see, all I ever had from you is speculation. You never came by and said: "Hey! Let's hang out, just you and me."
Gosh...
I just wish things would've turned out differently between us. At least I wish we weren't "enemies."
One thing's for sure: you never felt anything serious for me. And never once since we last spoke you thought about me.
I know you are doing well though. Happy to, in fact. So, that's great.
I'm doing great too in case you read this, it's just the ocassional melancholy that bursts in.
I'll allways remember you.
I hope we meet again.
