Maybe

Maybe this time, for the first time, maybe this time he'll stay.
Every single guy I have ever wanted or lusted after has left me for something else, something better.  When I met you, I thought this was different.  You looked at me not as a conciliation prize, but as the person that I am and I think you loved that.  I want to believe you did, anyway.
Now I'm alone again, three years later with nothing but mistrust and a scarred heart to show for it. 
I want to talk to you so badly.
I want you to miss me.  Please miss me.  I miss you so much, and I feel pathetic and unrequited. 
This is supposed to get easier, but every night something else hurts.  I can't let you go but I can't hold you close either.
So here I am, waiting for you to tell me the inevitable.  I'm not good enough.
It's gonna happen, happen sometime, maybe this time I'll win.