I can’t do it again. My heart is swollen, cracking my ribs as it grows because of the mess I made of it. It’s my fault. I

I can’t do it again.

My heart is swollen, cracking my ribs as it grows because of the mess I made of it.

It’s my fault.

I put myself there, and I chose to do it again.

And it hurts worse because there’s nothing I can do to stop me from lying and saying you care for me too.

When will it ever finally be real?

When will it be evident that when someone cares they actually show it?

That doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t know what that’s like.

-g