Maybe one day I’ll be able to look at you and know everything will be okay.
I can’t do it anymore, it hurts too much. When I have all this inside and I know it’ll never come out. Knowing that today wasn’t the end, and I’ll get to see you tomorrow isn’t what I want. I thought pretending to be fine, I thought pretending that you weren’t getting to me was going to work out. But it’s not. Now here I am, with no one here to listen.
I get it now. Why she didn’t want to talk. Why she didn’t want a conversation. Why she was just content with staring at him. Why she was fine with being around him. Because she knew that if she talked about how she felt. She would cry. She would break. Because saying she’s in love would bring her to pieces.