The last thing I'll ever write for you:
Sympathy doesn't fit me so well as the thought of you dying alone, but we're dying together. I find that I'm burning with things to say, but not to you. We don't spark like we used to; you were the last vestige of me clinging to high school, but I let you go for a good reason. You left a bad taste in my mouth, and it's apparent that nothing has changed since we last spoke. I still feel like talking to you is like walking the plank and I wish it wasn't like that but I'm walking on broken glass to meet you halfway and you keep breaking bottles. I want to feel the warmth and goodness that comes from young love, but not with you. This is me leaving you standing in the rain just like last time, only this time it's for good.
For someone new:
We both know where I want to be but that's too bad for both of us because I can't tell me to tell you and you won't tell me that there's no room for me in your heart and you're afraid of the look in my eyes when you grab my heart and twist and I'm already defeated by the look in your eyes that says I don't have a chance. I don't regret a minute I've spent chasing after you, and I think I've got another couple of miles if you can still hesitate. And I know it's far too late I never knew something could be over before it ever started but it's clear that you see right through me. I make you laugh and maybe blush a little, but you will never think of me in that way. That smile will never be for me and I'll never see that look in your eyes, but I'll go for you with everything I've got because I never learn. Nothing I know ever changes me, even though I know this will only end in disappointment and exhaustion. I'm dreading that moment, but I'm rushing towards it with all of my best intentions.