Impending Doom

The thing is… I know how this is going to end. I’m going to be heartbroken again; I’m going to check my phone every five minutes to find nothing from you there. We’re going to go months without talking, during which time I will think about everything that I would have done differently – everything that I would have said if I had known.

I’ll think about all of the things that I found out after; I’ll find out the things that you  should have told me yourself. And people tell me that I should hate you, that I shouldn’t care whether you talk to me or not… But I do.

I care, and I don’t stop caring.

Then, just like this time, it’ll start again, and I’ll be happy. I’ll think that maybe this time will be different… Will it?

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