It's never too late.

And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way

Weighing my pockets with stones of longing

Especially when those days are Saturday and Sunday.

They always come crawling back

I hate hurting because of how much I loved him.

I hate not knowing whether or not he cares about anything.

I hate not knowing anything about him or us or me anymore.

And I hate being stuck here.

Immobilized at 6:10 p.m.