Why am I doing this to myself?

I don’t allow myself to move on then I won’t be moving on you know. This is not GOd’s plan for me, why am I still holding on to it. There are better guy for me that God has prepare for me. It’s simply a matter of time.

Hey Chad, I miss you. But it’s a different kind of missing. I miss our good day in the beginning. I know that those aren’t necessary real though. What is genuine. You did make me happy at some point. Thank you. It is ok to feel the way I feel. It is ok to miss you, it makes me realized that I have feelings. Something I want, but I can’t have. My love just wasn’t reciprocated that’s all. I’m going to simply see it as that. The science behind all this is fascinating though. The moment I look at video of you, hearing your voice, honestly I started crying. I miss you even though you have hurt me by your words and actions.

What do I want? What exactly am I looking for. No one told me you’re good for me. Doesn’t mean that you won’t be good for someone else. You know my good memory of you was when I felt that you care. Not when we kiss, not when we’re being intimate, but when you put me first, when I feel that yousomewhct care for me. At this point I’m simply hoping  for something that is unattainable. Something that I cannot change or have. Something that is only in my head. I am torturing myself with your lies. I know I can’t go back. But if you reach out to me, I will try to help and guard my heart, no?

I didn’t even like you in the beginning. I just don’t mind talking to you, but the more we spend time with each other, the more I simply feel attach, It may not be love, but it was a hope for that person. For someone to care and love me and be gentle with me. You simply didn’t deliver. Did you lie? Did you try to deceive? What is going through your head when you were with me? I don’t think you care. You’re just chasing something else that’s not me. Regardless, this is about how I miss you. I know I can’t be close to you because you’ll definitely hurt me. You already did.

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