It's funny because I used to think one day you just woke up and it didn't hurt anymore. And that's how you knew you were over someone. But I don't think that's it. I've come to the realization that it didn't stop hurting. It never stops hurting. You just become so hard to the pain that it's like an immunity. You learn to live with that pain every day because there's nothing else you can do. And when you love someone that much, you would suffer endless pain to know that the person you love is happy.
I don't know if he's happy, number twelve I mean. I keep trying to cover my feelings so that I don't spend every minute of every day missing him. I had to learn to live with it. It was the only way. But that pain, the emptiness, the longing, it's still there. It's quieter, muffled, deeper now. I guess some days I hope I burry it so deep it never resurfaces. Other days I hope I have the chance to remind number twelve of my love for him. That he would give me the opportunity to show him just how much I love him because I don't think he ever really knew. I never gave myself a chance to love him like I should have. I never have myself the opportunity to be loved like that. I could never open myself up to that. But maybe, just maybe, one day I will get the opportunity. A second chance. A do-over.
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