An echo

i look at her profile a thousand times a day. it’s like scratching a bruise just to make sure it still hurts. and it does. deep. quiet. sharp. she’s beautiful. you kinda like the same music. you like her music. you and i never shared that. i tried. but it never felt like enough. she has features i have too. and now that’s all i’ll see when i look in the mirror, your maybe, your almost, the better in another version of me. i used to hate myself. but this? this made it worse. now i hate myself with proof. and the worst part is: nothing will fix it as long as we stay together. and you don’t even know what you broke.