I've been thinking lately on how to resolve the conflict within my heart between me and this guy. It's been years of my tyrannous hope over common knowledge. I would not call hope tyrannous at all if it were not nessasary.
I've written letters to this boy in which I exclaim my passion and anger towards the apathy he only wants to give me. I've got heart break and tears in those pages that will never be known because I will never send it. If apathy is the condition he is in, then I can't very well change it much. Or, maybe I could. But the question I posed to myself while writing is if I would even want to.
I know in my mind that I am not confused, that I should let go of the hope I hold for this boy. But as I write pen to paper, I find that my words are jumbled in a dismissive crossword puzzle in which does not care for me, although must be solved.
The disregard for me is what I am feeling, and have been feeling for a very long time. And I've tried to fix this so many times, but I find myself without a shred of dignity for myself. You're never to change, and I hope one day you will make another happy. But not me.
Because I see the happiness you have with others and not with me.
Who am I even talking to now? To the readers or to you, you hurtful boy?
Oh, I wish I knew.