confessions · sad

Naked underneath my clothes

I’m at my most vulnerable, standing alone, waiting for the train, reflecting on how my boyfriend doesn’t love me, searching for words to draw my feelings so that I can write an eloquent blog post so I can justify my disappointment with the production of art satisfying enough to balance the lack of love, and the most unrequited crush of my life is walking towards me.
His eyes are still sea blue. He still swaggers with a dumb, big lipped smile. And he’s wearing a predictable Burberry coat. He’s so shallow.
Heart is thumping. After all these years, it thumps still. Today, a little more lightly than the time before.

If only he could read my thoughts. My thoughts of unrequited love, then and now. Then again, he wouldn’t care to do so.

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