Sept. 22 (Again)Mature

Fake love just hurts me.

Fake love, as in role play.

Love that is mostly fiction, but with a sprinkle of reality that tears me apart.

Because, girl, you're sending mixed signals. If you loved me, you wouldn't have cheated on me, then got with him two days after I was gone. Honestly, you wouldn't have. But you did. And now you say you're in love with me? Please. Don't hurt me. I'm not bulletproof - I'm just a girl. But you don't know that. You might think I'm a boy. Invincible. I'm not saying that boys are invincible, no, but that's the way they're portrayed, right? Yeah. Truth is, every time I see you, my heart breaks a little bit more, and a small part of me dies inside. I'm just that little emo girl who doesn't fit in, and you're not helping by being a whore. The worst part? I love you with every fiber of my being. But I can't trust you.

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