♡༉ h.

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The next days were atrocious. And when I used the word 'atrocious'; I was being nice.

Your touch burned into my memory, keeping me tossing and turning in the bed, nights after nights. The emotions you made me feel that night - that night that would probably never come again, whispered a gut feeling of mine - infiltrated my daydreams, turning to haunt me at nights.

How funny it was, little things, all those little actions of yours, often made me think if it was me just reading extra into them because my heart wanted them to be signs from you.

I would keep trying to convince myself that I was just reading it all wrong - because honestly? it hurt less to know that I was wrong instead of knowing that you confessed your feelings for me one night, only to confess feelings for your girlfriend the next day and not remembering anything from the night before.

I never thought that I would step on my own pride and use the remnants to stop the bleeding of my shattered heart.

And deeper I fell into the pit - deeper, and deeper, detaching myself from everyone.

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