As I stare blankly at the yellow wall of my room where the cork board with sticky notes of different colors is hanging, there are words popping up my head, making me want to say them all to you. But you will not hear me, for you are out of reach, away. Far and away.
I keep seeing question marks, they seem confused as well. What would want you to know the truth? You keep ignoring me after all.
And guess what's inside my head? It keeps on wondering, thinking... "If I was in her place..." And then I don't know what it says next.
Words. Visions. Imaginings.
"...you'll have no regrets."
"...you'll be happy with me."
"...I'll let you do what you want to do in life."
"...we would be playing in the rain like kids and hide on the sidewalks when thunder claps."
"...every penny would be worth it."
"...you will be free."
And now, I'm running out of words. What remain are visions that cannot be translated. Imaginings that cannot happen.
You're a jerk.
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