Praying
Wishing with every fiber of my being that when I walk out of class tomorrow you’ll be sitting there on those steps like you used too. Waiting for me. Considering a hundred different scenarios of how I should react when I see you, if I see you. Just turn and walk away or talk to you as if none of it ever happened. But then again you probably wouldn’t even bother to make an appearance and this is just me getting my hopes up again. Setting myself up for the crash.
