Today I got stoned and started thinking about you. No surprise there. You got me wrapped around your finger. I’m high on your validation. I can’t breathe when you sweet-talk me. If you said I love you, I’d say I love you too. Because I’m addicted to this high, and I know it’s not right, but it feels right. 

It shouldn’t feel right.

But it does.

So, here I am, thinking about you. Again. No matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you. Do you think about me too? I doubt it. Why would you think about me too? You don’t know me, I don’t know you. This is all just a figment of my imagination. But still, my feelings run deep, I can’t control them. My soul longs for you. How fucking pathetic is that?

I am fucking pathetic.

But you? You’re just having fun.

This is all just a game to you. You know better, you know to keep your feelings intact. You know we can’t be together, so you didn’t let yourself fall. Me on the other hand, I fucking fell face first and busted my mouth on the pavement.