I’ve realized that if I just pretend long enough that I don’t care, maybe one day, I will actually stop caring about him.

I’m in love with you still. No matter what you do. I know you can’t put up with my depression anymore and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry you couldn’t handle my worst, with the cutting or the overdose or anything. I still wish for you at 11:11 every morning and every night. I tell you that I understand the reason as to why you never change, but really? I don’t understand at all.