You pretend like you don’t know me, like you never did.

You ignore me and act indifferent me. You refuse, refuse, to even remotely face my way.

And maybe it hurts, because you told me once, that you’re always looking at me. Looking at me so that you can make sure I’m okay, watching out for me as you said.

But you don’t do that now. So you must’ve been telling the truth when you said you don’t care about me. However, you know me.

You know how I over think things and try to make things out to be more than they truly are, so when you keep watching my stories, and liking my pictures, I think to myself, “this could be a way of him looking out for me”.

I’m not delusional, I’m not. So I know that’s not what that is. I know you do that, to torment me. To remind me that you’re there, whether I want you to be or not. And my throat constricts at the thought of it, but what else can I do?

I do the same, I don’t look at you, I don’t talk to you, and I purposely face away from you. I don’t want you to know I’m hurting, you don’t deserve that satisfaction.

You don’t.