Stabbed


I told myself that I wouldn't let this guy get to me.
Yet every little thing he does affects me.
From the way he walks to the way he smiles...
Or the way he makes me feel when our eyes meet for a brief second.
He makes me happy and he doesn't even try.
Hell!
He doesn't even know it.
His mere existence makes me happy...
But at the same time makes my chest feel like I'm being stabbed
over and over again;
To the point where I can't even think or breathe correctly.
This guy has changed me,
For better and for worse...

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