Confused

I think that knowing you miss me now would help me move on. Just knowing that there is a part of you that still wants me would ease my insecurities that we fell apart because you didn’t like the person I was anymore. Because all I do now is think where I fucked up and what changed from how we were in the beginning. Just give me something, anything. A text, a like. I hate myself for caring this much. On the outside I pretend like I don’t care and if you still look at my Twitter and Facebook how you used to, you would think I don’t care too. On the inside I care a lot, but I never want you to know that. I still check your Twitter and Facebook, and it seems like you don’t care. But maybe you’re just playing the same game as I am. Maybe.

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