I sent another guy on Bumble the song you recommended to me when we first started talking.

He asked me what my favorite song was and that’s the first one I thought of.

Isn’t it ironic?

I didn’t know when you sent it to me that it would become the way I feel about you.

The lyrics were a prediction from a fortune teller, warning me that it wasn’t going to work out.

But what did I know?

I thought I had met someone who got me - the real me.

I listen to that song on repeat through my headphones when I’m alone in my room.

I try to keep the tears inside, so I don’t disturb the neighbor I share a wall with.

I bought you a T-shirt of that band for Christmas, but I never got to give it to you.

I thought maybe that band would become our thing.

Now I wear it out even though it swallows my small frame.

Secretly, I pretend it’s your shirt and I’m just borrowing it.

It provides a sick sort of comfort.

Jack from Bumble liked the song.

I wonder if he’ll tell another girl about it, creating a vicious cycle of heartbreak.

It’s not even my favorite song, just one that makes me feel connected to you.

When I listen to it, I think of the first time I had ever heard it.

It was new and exciting, like you.

Now it’s a song I have engraved in my brain, its lyrics tattooed on my heart.

I thought maybe if I listened to it enough, I would get sick of it, but what can I say?

It’s a damn good song.