Sometimes i realize that it is true that people do care about me. It just doesn't seem like it. Even the ones i hurt, amazingly still care. The people you once loved are the same people who once loved you. They seem to not care, at least until something happens or they see you in a depressed state of mind. Even if I have hurt them, they might see me and wonder, "What has she done since then?". They may find me and ponder, "What might be wrong with her?". They may find me broken and crying, but I dont show it. They silently try and make me feel better. They know their feelings for me have not come to pass. They know mine has done the same.
A Beautiful Tragic Disaster