letters to you

letter four.

letter four.

dear you,

i saw you holding ophelia mcginley's hand before fourth period today.
classy.
i wish i could've slapped her,
or you,
or punched you.
i just want to hurt you.
hurt you as bad as you've hurt me so many times.
but i didn't.
because it wouldn't matter.

because i hate that i love you and you love that i'm gone.

and that's why i will continue to write letters that will never be sent.

i wonder how it felt to hold another girls hand,
after you held mine.

i wonder if her hand sweated.
i wonder if yours did,
like they did when we held hands.

i wonder if it felt wrong.

it felt wrong when i held oscar lincoln's hand.
it felt sticky and our fingers were meshed in an awkward position.
it also felt wrong when his tongue was thrust down my throat.

but i didn't complain.

because this is how it should be.

and i need to get used to sticky fingers and the way my chest concaves when i see you holding the hands of pretty blondes with names like ophelia and meagan.

i need to get over you.

i need to hate you.

i need a beer.

-me

//

a/n

vote if you think i deserve it & comment what you think so far :)

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