I like to think that someday you will understand that it's not that I don't want you to be happy and its not that I don't like you, but really it's just that I fucking hate the fact you pushed me away again and this time it didn't even faze you. I hate that she's emptying her syringes into your perfect little arm and that you don't even know what it means to be healthy anymore. and I know you won't ever find this the way i want you to, but I can still dream, can't I?
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