I have to believe that someday I will get over you. I have to believe that when I say I'm over you, I will truly mean it and believe it. But I'm telling you right now that belief seems like such an enormous doubt in my head and the only reason I'm writing this is so that hands won't find themselves writing to you and saying that I miss you. Because I know my friends will call me an idiot and I will call myself an idiot. But there's just the whole bothersome wonder of how you would reply to that. I guess I'll just go to sleep and toss and turn and face another night of defeat and my mind will return to the saddest place in my memory..your leave taking. When I had made my awful mistake.
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