He called, and yet for some reason, I'm not smiling like before

I wrote this. I DID. Aaaaaaaand the stupidity continues as I browse through everything I wrote for this blog.


This is an excerpt from a wattpad story. A fanfiction about two singers.

There is no cure for unrequited love. It’s a disease that weakens your heart in indescribable ways. Watching the person you love love someone else — seeing them so happy without a single trace of you in their mind — is enough to take your life. You would say that it’s destroying your heart, but the fact of the matter is that that heart isn’t yours to destroy. It hasn’t  been since the day you fell in love with them. Unrequited love is a cancerous sickness, and you only know you’re ill when you feel yourself dying.
And it’s typical. The hardest things to let go are the things you never had.

This took a lot of strength to write.

He called. Tonight. He called.

I texted him, you see.

There are certain people whom you know…

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