Don’t hurt people who have just started to open their hearts to each other. Play quietly. Then. Leave


for the nth time, be on your way.

The last two conversations we had were reflective of how much regret I could’ve wasted on much more simpler things I enjoyed doing before I met you. See, it was better not knowing, not hearing anything from you, and you could’ve just left it at that.

I tested myself if the density of words I used to say to you held as much weight as it had in the past, but they tasted like bitter cough medicine I always ended up throwing up when I was little. And I’m no longer a child. In the very least, I’ve grown much faster the time I had with you.

You talked harshly about things that you think taint your oh-so-goody-image, pushing me to the gutter. The whole point of it is saving your ass.

How many pointless conversations should we have to make you realize that I am better than fine? I am in a much happier place now. And I have no intention of leaving it.