I KnowI know what you're doing.
I know what you're saying to yourself, I know you're trying to act like you never loved him. Telling yourself he never mattered, that he was just a stupid little crush. I know, because I've done it.
And I know that sometimes you stare up at the ceiling and you lie to yourself and you promise that it will never happen and you make up poetic sounding things for how you feel. And then I know you tell yourself the truth for about an hour and feed the aching in your chest and try to think of sad things so you'll cry.
But you can only manage 3 barely-there-tears. And then you wipe them away and get a determined look even though no one will see it and you sit up and you say to yourself "No, I never really cared for him. No, I never really loved him. No, no, no I didn't do this and I didn't do that. He was the one who loved me."
And then you sigh, and you repeat the lies and the truths until you cry yourself to sleep. And then you wake up in the morning and stare at y