pt 3. may i called you yesterday again, like a complete idiot your voicemail answered and i cried, cried, cried. the part that hurt most was knowing you were there. picturing you, ignoring me, my heart crumbled. today when you got on the bus i almost called out your name but i knew you wouldn’t look back so i kept my head down. i walked past your seat on my way to the back row and the way you stared straight ahead made me feel two feet tall. you must’ve heard the voicemail i hate, hate, hate myself deleting it would have been easy but everything blurred, and i couldn’t. halfway to school, you started laughing and i tried to be subtle about looking you were with that girl again the blonde with too much makeup. she put your hand on your arm and my hands fisted at my sides i swear, you glanced my way for a single second. but then your friends caught your attention the same ones you’d blow off whenever i got sick, or needed you or felt the way i do right now. i guess you have more important people who matter, who have a purpose unlike me. not anymore, at least. not since everything that happened.
*shorter since i've been unmotivated to write*
