I’m now in my season of giving back the energy you provide.
Maybe this is what i’ve learned in most of my teenage years — to never do too much for people who doesn’t reply to you with the same substantial message.
I am not asking you to text me long paragraphs, to pick me up during rainy days, to buy me gifts with a five-digit price, or to mirror my expressions. but i want to feel that your presence is beside me, and not somewhere else that my eyes couldn’t zoom in.
Partly, it’s my fault for i know this will happen, but I slightly expect that you’re different…
The only constant thing you adore to do is flex me publicly; you seem to be enjoying the attention you are getting from people who make you as their standard. how about your private treatment? Opening up to me makes you ick, for it is not worth your time to align your trending intentions when it’s just the two of us.
You keep sending me fragments in our conversation, plain answers to my questions, and pretentious sweet moves. I acted like i didn’t care, but I’m slowly getting back to what I used to study back then—
So I plead with you to stop driving me crazy if you will only consume your gas and stop somewhere far from my destination…
Now my thumb didn't even hesitate to press the button to end your role in my life. at last, you lost me.
