Myspace: A Memoir

I refresh my page, everytime hoping I'll have new message from you. Of course, I never do, because that would mean you care enough about me to send me a message, and we both know that there's know way that will ever happen. Every time I hear the instant message sound, I hope it's from you. It never is. I would send you a message, but I'll keep checking to see if you read it, and everytime I read the word 'unread' it feels like my heart's falling out of my chest. And sometimes, only sometimes, I'm stupid enough to look at your profile. There I am, slowly creeping down your friends, while you've always remained the same. And every time I do this, I realize how little i matter to you, and my heart breaks all over again. Only a few months ago, there would've been a new message from you, every single time. That instant message would have been from you. I would send you a message and barely a minute would go by before you had at least read it. And, once upon a time, I had a spot above most of your "guys" and every single one of the girls. All of them. And I loved you. I opened myself up to you, let you in where no one else had ever been. You knew everything, and now you act like you know nothing, and now? now I hate you, and that is the truth. I hate you.