You Have a Bipolar Heart

I catergorize you as a person because I don’t know how to describe you.
An ex-fling? Sure, let’s go with that.
Junior Year:
I was 15, you were 17. You led me on for months.
I turned 16, you turned 18. You still led me on.
Seven months. That how long is lasted.
No, not a relationship. You were too much of a pussy to ask me out.
You were a player. A real jerk.
I knew it, but didn’t want to accept it.
You were an older boy. A flirt. You were like a drug, and I was addicted to your charm.
After that kiss, I was hooked. Two months went by, you still made no moves.
I moved on. Eventually you did too.
I found a boy. You found a girl.
A girl that eventually suspected that you were cheating on her with me after my boyfriend dumped me. What a funny girl.
Somehow, this misunderstanding brought us closer.
You begged to hang out with me. You missed me. You wanted me again.
I finally gave in and agreed to go to a movie with you.
I waited…and waited..and waited.
You didn’t show.
You made me look like a fool in front of my family.
What the hell was that, you dickhole.
You were always asking if I hated you for your previous mistakes. I always said no.
Now that’s different
I wish you would text me. Just one text. One simple Hello.
I would break you down with my words alone.
I hope you realize the mistake you.
You don’t deserve me; you never did.
I hope every girl you ever like figures you out before she gets involved.
Now you work at Toys-R-Us.
Really, bud?
Grow up already.

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