looking back, looking ahead, looking straight at you, in anger

Fuck you for making me think that this was special.

Fuck you for making me think that I was actually special.

Fuck you for making me believe that something good, something great, could come out of all this.

Fuck you for making me almost love you.

I guess it is a good thing that I'm cautious and hesitant in these kinds of situations, because if I'd let myself believe that the last was completely true, I'd have fallen harder.

So why does something still hurt?