It hurts.

It hurts knowing that it doesn’t matter.

That all of my thoughts and hypotheses will lead to nothing.

That I’ll never get closure.

That you want nothing to do with me.

I hurts knowing that I’ll be subject to this wondering, this wandering for god knows how many years before I did something or someone else.

It just hurts, recovering from a night of drinking and fun.

Alone at 6 in the morning, my friends on the couch and me knowing I should get some sleep for the day ahead but still pondering the thoughts of a relationship long passed.

it just fucking hurts, sometimes even physically, knowing that you won’t be there.

And I wish it wouldn’t.

But it does.

It hurts.