you’re nothing to me, so why exactly do i still get that feeling? you’re just a weekly occurance in my life. A call, a text, a one night a week deal. its not like you matter to me. we havent been through anything. we havent shared any moments besides what has gone on in that room with one door, no windows and faces and words all across the walls. yeah, i remember when you said you wanted to get an inflatable couch for your room. and you’re still trying to set up some exercise machine, and your tv is ginormous, and i remember what kind of phone you have because my best friend cam has the same one, and yeah, i may know where youre ticklish, but what the hell does that all add up to? absolutly fucking nothing. your text at 12:31 last night was a huge surprise. and at the time, it was a good surprise. while we were texting, it was fun, most of your texts made me smile and laugh. but i know who was typing those texts, and it wasn’t your heart, and it wasn’t your brain. yet i still took them to heart. tonight we’re going to hang out, invisible to the world. and at 10:50 when i leave to go home, i’m going to walk out that door feeling happy and special because you can trick me into thinking i am. and i’m going to drive home, pushing the speed limit to make curfew like always, and i’m going to gush to lizz and kelly about my night. and thats going to last all of 2 days. monday, i’m going to be at work, at 10am swimming, and i’m going to be thinking about you. you’ll be just waking up, probably not thinking about me. and life is gonna go on. in a week or so, you’re gonna text me asking to hang out again, and the cycle is going to go on. you think we’re in the same boat, but we’re really not. mine is sinking because of the cannon you shot at me. these once a week events are the only thing keeping me afloat. all they really are is a cover up. because id hate to admit it, but i still want to be your girl. it’ll never happen. i know it never will. no matter how many hours we spend in the room with no windows and one door. nothing is going to happen outside of those walls. when i think about you its hard not to think about him, because i know exactly how he feels. i am to him like you are to me. this whole thing is messed up. but its my life, and sometimes i act on impulse and not think about how i’m going to feel in 48 hours about it. you’re my biggest problem and my biggest bad habit. bad habits die hard, but i feel like you’re never going to die. you’re always going to be in my contacts, always on facebook, and forever in my heart. but there is one thing: you’re no longer what i wish for every time i see 11:11.
