This is Me

I guess this is kind of a diary. Delly did this first and I thought I should do one too.


4. 4

When you think of love, you think of happiness. You think of riding away into the sunset and kissing and those stupid hearts which look nothing like real hearts.

Except, that's not real.

Love is knowing that you can never have someone and staying by their side anyway, not just because  you're a sucker for punishment but because you'd break the world to make them happy. You're there for them, you dry their tears and make them laugh and do your hardest to make their life easy but they don't look twice at you. At least, not in the way you yearn for.

They make you so happy. Seeing their name, knowing they're there and they care, it's enough to set your head spinning. They make you happier than anyone else can and they don't even know it.

But they can't make you truly happy. They never will. Because to be truly happy you need their love. But that's okay. You don't have to be truly happy. As long as they are. Because you know it can never happen. Hell, even if they were attracted to your fucking gender it wouldn't happen. If anything they'd go for your friend. That one friend who gets along with all your other friends better than you do. But shit, it doesn't matter. As long as they're happy, you're fine.


But you can't fool yourself, no matter how hard you try.

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