This Hamlet thinks he is more divine and commendable than all others. He's rude and ignorant but entirely encapsulating.
While I talk to him, I can sense that he's replacing me, word by word I can feel his attention and affection dissipating even though he emphasizes me how important I am to him.
I want to meet someone new so that I can distract myself from longing after him. I want Hamlet to feel pain for taking me for granted, thinking that I would always be his second option, there for him when he wants to be pleased.
He acts like I'm invisible, like our friendship means nothing. I saw him in the corner embracing her, loving her, denying every second of it.
His knife struck deeper than he thought and ruptured a love tendon so raw that only contempt and spite poured out as the golden ichor of my love. Hamlet, you really screwed yourself this time.
No comments:
Post a Comment