The 4th letter

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Dear him,

I remember the last day you actually talked to me.

Our conversation is still crystal clear, and fresh in my mind. It eats away at me everyday.

It wasn't really a conversation though, all you did was stop me in the hall way. You looked at me and saw the patheticness written on my face.

But it wasn't that i was pathetic, I was just broken. The broken pieces of me were written on ever inch of my body.

Not that you looked at me long enough to notice, all you saw was my smile I plastered on everyday.

And all I had to do to get you to leave me alone, was smile and say "nothing's wrong, I'm fine"

When on the inside all I wanted you to do was see I wasn't fine.

But you never cared to take a second glance at me, or help me glue the broken pieces together again.

It was all about you.

Always about you.

Love, her.

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