twohundredeighteen.

It shouldn’t bother me. Not the least bit. So why in the world am I crying like there’s no tomorrow? I knew the truth hurt, but then again, I figured lies did, too, and that being the reason why I preferred the truth. But I think I’d much rather have been lied to and never known. Because now, I always will know. When I look back upon the sentimental moments and such, this one small fact will easily resurface in my mind, ruining everything.

Invisible tears are the hardest to wipe away. Just let it out