Fuck.
Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.
FUCK.
I want you to know that I miss you.
I want you to know that I love you.
I want you to know that you have succeeded in making me feel like shit.
I want you to know that you haunt my dreams.
I want you to know that I've kept all your things.
I want you to know that I thought you cared.
I want you to know that I prayed to /something/ that you'd stop smoking.
I want you to know that I want you to be safe and healthy.
I want you to know that I want you to have fun.
I want you to know that I think you're beautiful.
I want you to know that you have my heart.
Had my heart.
What heart?
I want you to know that everything you just read is now a lie.
Because I've flipped that switch.
I'm not feeling this pain anymore.
I used to give a fuck a few seconds before I wrote this.
Just a few seconds.
Everything changed.
And it was just one decision.
So fast.
What's the fucking point.
If you didn't want to talk to me, then don't.
If you don't want to know me, then don't.
If you don't want me to be here, then go.
If you don't /fucking care/.
I won't either.
The end.
Good night.
Good Bye.
I tried.