One of your millions

The moment I figured it out that I am not the only one beside you, there is a hard feeling that I hope is not true. My beautiful imagination about me and you suddenly burst into water springkles of dreams—not plan. Everything I do for you is just to be one of a thousand you love. Even a purr of a cat can comfort me more than you do.

If you think that I will always be one of your millions, I hope it’s not true. As time pass, I’m learning a lot, how to be a better person, how to make you happy, and how to not waste time on you. Most of the time, I was the only one to be there for you, to hug you, to comfort you—but did you ever be there for me?

Did you ever care for all of the thing that I do? Or you only care for it when it benefits you. You only reply to my messages because I do reply to you. Now that I learned, your kind of people will be the only kind of people that I hate. Your kind of people will always be like that—take benefits of everyone and leave them.

I was wrong for putting my hope on you when you even put your hope on someone else. I was wrong for always being there for you when you never even there for me. I was even wrong for trusting you when the only thing I can trust is my feeling for you.

I am still learning to be better, I hope you are too. I hope that it stops on me—no one is entitled to feel like I do. I hope that this chain is truncated the way my feeling is.

I hope you never see me as one of a bunch, but as a the one and only