There’s an intertwined slight breeze of an idea that I’m not loveable; Whenever you come back to tell me: let’s be friends.
I’m not a bitter child like before, but I attempt to still stand on my two feet without giving way for trampling on. Your apathy maybe genuine, it breathed obnoxious.
Although the memory of you was a bittersweet note, your goodbye, with a request for my friendship, was a sort of slander to my personality.
And I promise I’ll wait for normal to happen, but I don’t want it to be anytime soon.
Ill forget you in my time, like you did me faster in yours.