there is something wonderful in knowing that I can wake up and stop torturing myself with questions of what I could or should have done differently; my only mistake was being who I am. unfortunately for you, you don’t know it, and you never will, but I am pretty great.

your validation, or the absence of your validation, used to mean so much to me. I used to rise and fall at the buzzing sound from a new text message. I would scramble to pick up my phone after hours, even days or radio silence, only to throw it across my bed when I realized it wasn’t you. it’s funny… how much your apathy caused me to resent the love of others, as though a friend checking in to see what I was doing was an insult in the face of the fact you didn’t care. I remember how much importance I would place on the most insignificant signs. the degree to which I would read into a two word sentence, as though I was going to create feelings out of thin air through my own interpretations. sometimes… it felt like I was more in love with myself than you, because you were always so more expressive in my imagination of what you really meant to say.

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