All we do is argue and fight and half the time I want to strangle you, but the thing is I care about you and I don't want to hurt you. If we had never dated, I think we would hate each other. That's how much we disagree on everything.
And yet, you find ways to make me smile. When you steal my things and run away with them and act like old times, as if I can still just distract you with a kiss and unwind them from your fingers. My phone, my soda, my backpack-- and even when we're yelling at each other from across the classroom, you still have that look in your eye like you want to kiss me. And trust me, I want to kiss you too.
But we broke up and I'm sorry and I didn't mean it. I was angry at myself and I didn't want to see us shatter. I figured if I broke it cleanly, like a bone, it would heal quicker. And yeah, it did, but this is worse than shattering, or being beyond fixable, because I have to sit there and talk to you and argue and laugh and act like I don't want to make out with your face right then and there-- act like I don't love you.
And I do. I really, really do.