#;hers

snaps i’ll never send

snaps i’ll never send

amgh pt 100000

snap text I'll never send

I think it was the first time I felt something for someone. Something more than a friend. It was as if God was tired of us tip-toeing around each other. I haven’t been that comfortable with a guy. Ever. We were so close. This time. Literally. I never thought I’d lay down and listen to the heartbeat of someone. I never thought I’d be able to fall asleep with my head on your chest. How lightly you traced my spine. Everything was right. We were content in silence. Sometimes I’d catch you looking down at me. We’d make eye contact and smile. Smile because, the moment, no you were fleeting. Now. 4 days later Not a single text or call Not a “here’s a hot af snap video of me” Nothing Just as we began my heart felt nothing. I did nothing. If we had a contest on pride I’d win. You were in my building and still didn’t come see me. Nothing See I do petty stuff to protect my heart. To make sure small things like this don’t break it To shield my heat from the reality of life. To shield it from you. To make her unaware you exist at all. So when you left I left too So when you left My heart didn’t shatter. At least not until now.

I don’t tell people how much I like you because I know if I did they’d tell me that you weren’t worth it. That I deserve better. How I don’t need someone who is not there. Ever. Maybe I like you so much that I’m willing to hurt myself countless times than have someone tell me you’re not right for me. Maybe you aren’t.

Clear History. Tip, next time go incognito that way you won’t have to delete your history again. Incognito. How easy would that be? To browse without any traces you were there To simply close the window and it’s gone. Not having to look back and be ashamed at the link Oh how easy life would be See, you taught me what incognito was Granted it was the kind of lesson that was taught by doing but I learned You were hiding, waiting to right click the exit on us. On me. I couldn’t see the ‘X’ highlighted in red. The letter you wanted me to become. . . .