In rare moments that I share your sentiments, that it’s inevitable that one day it’ll be over, I either slump into a weird self-defeating mood that makes me want to just lie on the floor and not feel anything for the rest of my life but the carpet on my cheek, or mentally pick myself up immediately, thinking that no one knows anything for sure, and entertaining those thoughts means holding even the slightest belief that it’s possible.
And then I think that I’ll never get over you. No matter what.
