I'm seventeen. I am both happy and sad, and I am still trying to figure out how this could be. Summer, boys, alcohol, music. I'm the luckiest person alive.
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We parked on a hill and looked across the town.
You held me.
You told me you loved to see me smile.
You told me we made a pretty good team.
You rolled me over just so you could look into my eyes.
You spent every day with me.
You had me spend the night.
You had sex with me.
You broke up with me,
Then he told me you planned to "hit and quit" before you even started talking to me.
I cried.
It was all a lie.
I got fucked over.
You never apologized. You never even cared. You still don't.
Still hurting. Still crying. Still waiting to wake up.
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I have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there.
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The first time I kissed you. One kiss, I was totally hooked. Addicted to you. I could never love anyone the way I love you. I’d follow you across the universe.
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