You destroyed me. Like, you really, really messed me up. Not the little paper cut that can be healed with a band aid. You left a gaping wound winding across my torso. Stitches became a joke and I was left to bleed onto that hallway carpet alone.
I loved you.
I knew I cared about you deeply. I knew that. Everyone knew that. You made me transparent. I refused to admit to myself, though, that you could have possibly triggered some sort of feeling of adoration, of love. You did, though. I can see that now. I can also see that you so clearly didn’t feel the same.
Was I not good enough? I understand she was more beautiful. She was funnier. She had known you for much longer. She was charismatic. She had friends. She was everything. But I was everything too, in a different way. I cared. I listened. I laughed. I did and would have continued to do anything for you. I adored you. I respected you and your space. Writing all of this, I realize she probably did all of these things, too. I just wish I knew why I wasn’t enough for you. You were enough for me.
No matter how much I tried to convince myself I deserve more than the way you treated me, I never really believed it until recently.
Why did you lie to me? You knew what you were doing and you knew how fragile I was. You knew I cared for you deeply and you knew that once I found out, I would be left broken on the ground. You knew you would watch me break and walk away, acting as if you had no part in the tragedy. Why didn’t you just tell me from the beginning? Was it fun for you to play me on? Did you enjoy breaking me?
It still hurts to see you. I saw you when I was standing alone in a crowd. You were yards away and tens of people were standing between us, but I still found you. I always have. I am afraid I always will. I saw you and I felt my heart slip down along my ribcage. Time froze. I am terrified for school to start again because I know we have classes together. I am terrified that I will see you and forget my name. I am terrified that I will hear your voice saying my simple two syllable name and I will stop breathing. I am terrified that I will hear you say another girl’s name and I will collapse. I am terrified that you still have a hold on me, even though I have tried so hard to shake you.
I am not coming back to you.