• Don’t say you never cared about me because I still have the gifts you gave me from Valentine’s Day in my room - and I still sleep with the teddy bear that says ‘I Love You’ everyday because it still smells like you.
• Don’t say you never cared about me because I still have the feel of your arms around me whenever you’d hugged me close against you, even if it did last only for two seconds tops each time.
• Don’t you dare say you never cared about me because I still have your messages saved in my phone - all those sweet words you sent me at the crack of dawn when I was fast asleep.
• Don’t you dare say you never cared about me because I still feel your hand wrapped around mine sometimes when I walk into fifth period, and when I miss you terribly at 3 pm when I’m making myself French toast.
• Don’t you dare fucking say you never cared about me because I have all these memories of us replaying in my head everyday like a broken recorder that won’t stop spinning until it’s dismantled and ravished me and my memories of you completely.
• Don’t you ever fucking dare say you never cared about me because there were times where I was so sure you loved me and somedays, I still think you did.
How can you now say you never cared about me?
Where did I go wrong?
What did I say?
What did I do?
But then again, maybe your cold, burning eyes and your sweetened, lying lips were proof of your lack of love for me.
But then again, I know I made you feel things you didn’t want to feel. Things you wanted to run away from - feelings - because they scared you. Because you were afraid of commitment.
You were afraid of loving me.
But I’ll make it easy. You’re not the only one that lie, you know?
But who knows, maybe the one that’s lying isn’t you.
Maybe it’s me.
Maybe I never loved you either.
How about we mix your sweetened lying lips and my bitter, distrusting lips together and see who’s lying here.
Guess we’ll never know, huh?
Because two people can’t play the same game if they don’t play by the same rules.