What are we?

After everything that had happened, after all the confessions, I’m left to wonder. What are we? Friends? Do you like me? I keep hoping you do, but I always come to the same realization. You don’t like me. To you I’m just a friend. I’m probably not even a good friend, just friend. Someone to talk to, but never grow attached to. I however… I however can’t see you like that. I’ve tried so hard to get you out of my head, but I can’t. When she put on your jacket I felt so numb. When she talked to you I got so jealous. I wanted to be the one talking to you.  I hated her for it, but I couldn’t tell anyone. You didn’t want me. I just wish I could say the same.

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