I sent you an email.
Unlike texts; I have no idea whether you’ve opened it or not.
And it’s killing me, the suspense of waiting.
Waiting for something that may never come.
Unlike texts; I have no idea whether you’ve opened it or not.
And it’s killing me, the suspense of waiting.
Waiting for something that may never come.
The rejection is loud and clear
And I hate you.
Why did you even flirt with me?
What am I? A toy?
A fun little experiment that you can just throw away at whim?
A nice break from all your routine?
And I hate you.
Why did you even flirt with me?
What am I? A toy?
A fun little experiment that you can just throw away at whim?
A nice break from all your routine?
Whatever I may be; you’re not going to have me again.
Unless you prove yourself.
Unless you prove yourself.