PROZAC
Love, loathe, repeat.
Just us on the freeway, gloves box filled with memories that we wrote.
I got back in touch with you on Saturday, we spoke for a bit and I ended up telling you that I never got over you, that I still have feelings for you.
We decided with the way I feel we could never be friends, not right now. We've gone our separate ways.
I can't stop thinking about you, about us, everything. I know this is now me getting over you, which will never happen, but I guess it's started.
I just can't stop thinking about you, the way you moved, how you were so easy to speak to. You were my everything.
I wish this was so much easier to fucking understand. You tell me that you don't want a partner, that you'll never love anyone, that you just don't want anyone.
I know for a fact that next time we speak, if I don't cave, you'll be with someone and you'd have gone back on everything you said. Why is this so fucking hard?
You give the signal, I'll pull the trigger.
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