at Myself for believing you would come through just this one time, for believing you wouldn’t “forget”, for believing you meant it this time. I’m more mad at Myself for thinking this could finally work than I am mad at you for failing me again.
I can only be mad at you for the same thing so many times and for so long, I just wish you wouldn’t give me this false hope. I wish we could just be friends who don’t make promises so we can’t break them. Then neither one of us could get hurt, and we could never be mad at eachother or ourselves.