Heartbreak.

You can feel it too, can't you? Slipping through your veins, until it reaches your heart and grips at it with icy hands, that burn the once beating muscle as they squeeze, adding pressure until it snaps. Pressure that causes an ache to spill through your chest, spreading, spreading, until you can no longer think straight. Your arms and legs flop lifelessly as you let it over come you, knowing you cannot fight it. Your eyes glaze over and tears leak over, leaving salty trails along your porcelain cheeks.

She hurt you, just like the others. It was inevitable that it was going to happen. She never loved you, not like I do. She loved the fact that she could latch onto your arm like an ugly little leech, and parade around town with you, showing you off to all the other girls who all equally wanted you.

I'd warned you of this, but you just brushed it off, told me she was different. Well she wasn't, was she? She broke your heart, just like the rest of them. None of them appreciate you for who you really are. All they see is your pretty face and your reputation.

Don't pretend you don't know about that reputation. All the girls you've been with have told enough to their friends, who then told their friends, who then told their friends, until everyone knew and wanted a piece of you.

In a way, I'm honored to be just your friend. You just talk to me normally, and you let me see you at your worst, but I know, I can just feel it, that if we were together as more than friends, not much would change. You have nothing to hide from me, for I already know it all.

I know that soon enough, some other beautiful blond will come along. She'll compliment you, and turn you into jelly. Play-dough in the palm of her hand, she can mold you, play with you, get bored of you, and put you back in the box, crumbling slowly.

Once she's left you, you'll come back to me, much as you are now. You'll tell me how she used you, how she played with your feelings, how she just didn't care. You won't realize how much it kills me to see you cry, how much it leads me on when you cuddle into me in my bed, because you don't like being alone.

I should be angry at you. Angry for letting your self get broken by all of those girls who couldn't care less if there was an intelligent man with feelings behind the beautiful face that they first see.

They'll see the cover as they pick you off the shelf, but they'll never bother to read the blurb.
Well, baby. I've read not only the blurb, but every single page of your life. I know it, back to front and upside down, and I'm pretty sure that I could recite it back to you.

I'll wait for you, because one day you'll realize. There's only so long that you can go ahead getting your heart ripped out, and splattered onto the wall.

You feel the heart break can't you? Well, baby, I feel it too.