I fell in love.

Six months ago,

a little more,

a little less,

I fell in love.

I found you and

I could not let go.

One look at you

and I knew my heart

was bound to yours.

Yet, dear Mr, I should have

guessed that yours was never bound

to mine.

Its funny,

isn't it?

Loving someone that

does not love you back. I poured

my heart and soul in us

but for you there was never an us,

just a what if.

You decided to grab my heart

and throw it away...

Just like. That.

I loved,

love,

and will probably still love you,

for a number of things.

I love you for the little jokes

you make, I love you for the way you

looked at me. I love you for the way you

layer your black hoodies to you little plaid jacket.

I love you for the way your lips curled

into a smile when I did a stupid thing.

I love you for the way you pulled up your

hoodie when mine was up so we'd be the same.

I could keep on going for hours

about all the little things I loved, love,

and will always love about you.

But most importantly I loved you for being

yourself with all the imperfections combined.

I always wonder to myself if maybe,

oneday... you could have loved me,

but your ego and denial got in the way.

Now all that's left is a stupid love hate relationship

I have with you and myself. I can't help it.

I hate you for making me love you,

and I hate myself for loving you even after

you keep on breaking my heart, one day after the other.

I hate myself for always hoping you are

coming back, but hurt myself more

when you don't .

So now I'm just sitting here in a pile

of torn out letters and in a pool of my tears,

just because I know that you will never come

back.