I just feel transparent. Something like glass, but not exactly. I’m not tangible. I’m just there. It feels like I’m non-existent, like I’m just there for the sake of it. Your pretty words spun a web of deceit, and I fell for it hook, line and sinker.

I was mere a stepping stone, with no real value to you. Friends? What a farce. All you wanted was to know the others. I’m just another potted plant.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
I thought you were much better than this. I guess you’re really the next person I’ve misjudged in my life. Give me back all those minutes and hours I’ve wasted, spending time with you, talking to you and trying to make things right.

All I’ve felt, was unending misery. Thanks for making my birthday such a horrible one.

Now all I feel like, is a glass sheet.


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