The Worst Part (Cont.)
For a while I put up with it, didn’t bother me too much. I was happy for the attention and for something new to focus on. I even fooled myself into thinking that you really cared. But I was wrong. Very very wrong.
You’ve hurt me over and over again and I let you. I let you because I thought I loved you. No, I DID love you. You just didn’t love me back. So I guess this is it. I don’t think I could survive another spin on that rollercoaster.
Ok… I lied that’s not the worst part. The worst part is knowing that I would ride that rollercoaster again. Maybe not the same way but I would willingly strap myself on, raise my arms in the air, and scream my head off as the cart sped down the track, doing its loops and barrel turns. Going through the climbs filled with anticipation and hope, going through the drops that leave me hurt and broken. I would go through it all over and over and over again, as long as your in the seat next to mine, strapped in and ready for the ride.