There's no one to talk to so I'm just going to talk to my blog.

You'll probably never read this. You'll probably never know that I'm still in love with you.
Even if you did read this, you would probably never know it was about you.
And it would kill me.
It was high school, I get it. We were young, we were trying to find ourselves, trying to be different...
It was scary, I get it. No one understood except for us.

But for me, it wasn't about the physical aspect. It wasn't seeing how good you could feel or how much you wanted me.
For me, it wasn't what everyone else saw. Us holding hands, us being different.
It wasn't about being made fun of.
It wasn't about what everyone else thought.
For me, for the first time and maybe one of the only times in my life, it was about the flowers that grew when we kissed. For me it was the electricity running through my body when you slipped your hand into mine. It was being able to hold you, to save you, to try as hard as I could to protect you from any harm, from anything you were afraid of.
It was holding you when you cried over everyone else. It was comforting you when no one else did.

And it's funny. Because you'll probably never read this. And you probably won't ever know how you really made me feel. I don't know, maybe I'm not still in love with you. But you were everything to me. Holding you in my arms was like holding all that ever mattered. When I was with you, everything disappeared. When I was with you, we were a secret, nobody had to know. It hurt, yeah... of course it hurt.
And you never understood. Maybe you never will.
You never listened when I wrote you a song.
You never thanked me when I gave you my all.
You never internalized my words when I told you I loved you.
I didn't mean it as a best friend.
I meant that I would die for you.

And you took that for granted.
You dated, kissed, loved others.
And told me about it.
And we meant nothing.
We meant nothing.

And it's funny.
Because you'll probably never read this.