Walking past, is still as nerve-breaking as it was the first time.
Taking your hand, holding it tight, upsets me, because i know - you will be gone the next second.
But what kills me the most, is being there, watching you, doing what you once did to me, to another girl.
Im not what i come off as, i am so much more and so much less. But i guess, yet, no one seems to see me for that person. They see me, as the one, they think i am. And the one wish, that someone would win me over and convince me theres good ones out there - never seem to come true. I want the good ones, who can bring out the best in me.
Someone who actually gets to know me, and not the girl from the pictures.
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