I told myself I was over you. I told myself that I didn’t like you anymore. But there’s still that little bit of me that wishes for you to maybe realize that you like me too. So whenever my phone rings and I see that I get a text message from you, I get my hopes up. But every time I read the message you sent me, I’m disappointed once again.
I want a boy who shows me off, who treats me with respect, who would call me at four in the morning just to tell me he can’t stop thinking about me, who sings to me even if he can’t. A boy who could break my heart, but would never ever dream of it.