1998
Back to it really fucking hurting again, I still entertain the thought that the highschool sweetheart might actually want to be friends, and yet I eagerly await a reply from her, all I get is nothing. A cold blanket if silence, the same feelings of when I was at school return to the surface; I still don't understand just how in the fuck I can allow myself to feel like this, yet I do.
All I have is a name, a picture, and the zombie emotions of a broken heart. Love, time, and life have all moved on, yet i guess I never really will get over what happend to me in 1998.
All I have is a name, a picture, and the zombie emotions of a broken heart. Love, time, and life have all moved on, yet i guess I never really will get over what happend to me in 1998.