Maybe I really didn’t like you. Or if ever I did, maybe not that much. Maybe I just like the way you talk to me. The way you make me see things in your perspective. The way our conversation flows. Maybe I just like the idea of having you there, making me smile. Maybe I was just too needy, longing for someone when you came. Maybe I was sad to know the difference between liking you and just the idea of liking you. Maybe I was a young shitty head to say that I like you. Maybe. Maybe I was wrong. I’m sorry, I wished we never crossed the line. It bothers me that maybe, I become too compulsive again and lead to maybe, liking you for real.
1:12am. March 3, 2015