Remember that feeling.

Remember that feeling. The endless pit in the bottom of your stomach. The shame that washes a shade of rouge across your cheeks as you read back on old messages. The ones where you tried. Where you begged him to talk to you. Where he shot ice through your kindness. Where kisses went unreciprocated.

Remember that feeling. The tug at your heart when he ignores you again. The butterflies crushed as he barely makes eye contact before putting his arm around another girl. The disappointment when the notification that flashes up is not from him. Swallowing doubt, wearing his excuses as a mask. Convincing yourself that you need to make yourself more worthy of his attention. Then he might love you.

Remember that feeling. The damp carpet against your face. The top of the steering wheel, imprinting your forehead. The coolness of the wall on your hot cheek. As you cried and cried. Tears that shouldn't have fallen, as you collapse in fear of losing him. Throwing ropes out in your mind one after the other, pleading for him to hold on so you can bring him back.

Remember that feeling. The ache in your chest.

Remember that feeling. The feeling he left in you. Because he saw that feeling, and he still walked on by.