Creeper.

   I think about you when I'm sad. About how you'd make it all better with your touch, with your words, with you just being there. But it was all a lie, and that makes it even more depressing. I think about what you're doing, where you are, who you're with, and if you're happy. I want you to be happy, but my selfish ways get in the middle of things and my mind tells me you don't deserve to be happy, because I deserve it more. But my heart still loves you, for god knows what reason, I still do. My friends think you're crap. I think so too, but I still love you. They say you never really get over your first. You were my first. My first everything. I want to move on, but you manage to just creep your way back into my mind. I used to love long bus rides. It always allowed me to think about things, let my thoughts run wild and free. Now, the only thing I think about is you, and how you're doing, and if I'll ever be able to have what we had, though brief, again, but with someone else, someone more deserving of my heart.