And yet again, he will find himself calling me at one in the morning when she inevitably breaks his heart. He will fall for some new girl and I’ll hear all about how he truly has found the one this time. I think that when he moves away our pinky promises will be broken. There is one more month left for us before the lifestyle of late-night talks is uprooted. The Boy Just Like Me has lost faith in love. I wished to be the one to hold her at night. I experienced extreme jealousy every time I felt I was not good enough for her or she was obviously closer with someone else. I stay confused about true feelings when it comes to her. I wanted to learn what my heart truly felt, but all I learned was that I can write good prose. The Girl With the Highest Rank made me create a character to express my love for her. I never told them how scared I was when he would come visit me. All I told my friends was that he was like a brother to me, I never told them how he talked to me. But when I got the call from his sister, all I could think of were the good times. He was an expert at “sorry” and even better at comparing me to other people. I have realized that I can relate “Dear John” by Taylor Swift to him. It is amazing how much a song can change things. The Boy Who Loved Cars died a little over a week ago. The physical pain of a heartbreak is a weird emptiness that sticks around and tries to swallow me up until I become a part of the nothing. I have known for a while that I make this mistake and yet, when I stay more reserved with my feelings it doesn’t serve me well at all. If my screaming and crying say anything about the situation, it’s that I invest too much of myself too quickly. Clearly, The Boy Who Was Silent has made the decision to sever the ties between us and put up a wall. What about walking around with a pit in my stomach every day until I hear from The Boy Who Was Silent? Is that love or is it obsession? My friends and I joke about throwing our seven-dollar coffee at his house, but we decide he’s not worth the waste of whipped cream and icy caramel. The concept of passing by and seeing The Boy With the Blue Walls terrifies me. If I were to walk down two blocks and turn right, I would see his house.
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