Yeah, I was trying to figure out how long I could keep that up.
But I can't... because the feeling isn't leaving me.
So yeah. I love him.
I just slept in all day trying to figure out what went so awry this weekend, and the only thing I can come up with is that I just wasn't true to myself. I played it way too cool and acted like it didn't mean much to me when it meant the world to see him looking at me like that.
So maybe I deserved it, because my body language treated him the same way.
Why am I so guarded? Like I'm always waiting to be hurt. Sometimes I feel like I throw my heart in front of a moving train, yet still manage to be surprised when it gets hit hard.
I never give love hope; instead I give it an expiration date. Always focused on what's about to go wrong rather than on what's going absolutely right - right now.
So yeah. I love him. But now I think it's too late.
Another lesson learned the hard way. It's like my personal motif.
Late.
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