I'm a mess.

I m a mess
I m so lost as of now.
I m caught between two contradicting
emotions without the ability to decide which
is in the right.
Do you love me? Do you care? Why should I
love you? Why should I care?
I shouldnt—I know that—but here I am; lost
without you; wondering if you think of me
nowadays; running over every what-if there is;
and of crying myself to sleep.
I dont think you deserve my love and the time
Ive given you, but I cant help it. You could love me like nobody else could.
I'm still in love with you somehow.  I never thought this, but
here I am. I know things werent, arent, and
will never be right, but you were my first real
love.
"And boy i did love you."
But its seemingly over. I've changed.
Everything's changed. I can't love you.
Even if you tried I don't know if we can be
friends.
I'm anxious. So anxious. I ve no idea of life.Totally dependent on destiny taking me out somewhere atleast.
Loving you was the best thing ever happening to me.
It concerns me that you have no idea just how
FUCKING GORGEOUS YOU ARE. INSIDE AND
OUT.I adore the things you keep trying to hide when you sang to me.
Your audios are the only thing playing on my cellphone and on myself too.
:) Here I m.A big mess of feelings. In the middle of the night.
And I m an utter mess over a boy.
Does he know how much I think of him? Does
he know how much I hate him? Does he know how much I once yearned to hear from him?
Does he know how emotionless I feel?
Hurt? Hateful? Foolish?
Its sad. I don't know what's sadder: realizing
your love can disintegrate so quickly for
someone or that their's can.I really did love you.
But now? I dont work that way.
I know it hasnt been that long and I shouldnt
come to harsh conclusions so quickly but its
just that..
It has been that long.
That much has changed.
I've been hurt.
And I won't forget.
Because we never do, do we? I'm caught
between two contradicting emotions: love
and hate. Im caught between two places: that
of continuing to love you and that of giving a
definite goodbye. Im caught between two
sets of memories; those were I felt you loved
me and those were I felt slighted by your hand.
I don't know if you'll ever see this. Half of me
hopes you do. The other hopes you never
hear from me again.
But. If you are.
And if you care.
I'd get my shit together because I'm halfway
gone.
The question isn't whether you care for me or
not—I've made up my mind for the most part
in regard to that—its whether you're the
person I thought you were and have the guts
to speak the truth.
may be i leave this for time to heal. Or waiting for a miracle to happen to my feelings.