I hate you. I hate how I miss you after you treated me horribly. I hate how you made me so happy. I know, I probably liked you way too much, especially since I figured that I was just the rebound girl, the transition to your next serious relationship. My judgment was impaired.
I knew all this yet it felt amazing talking to you and spending time with you even though I knew I probably meant nothing to you. I remember that first time you asked me to hang out with you and we walked on the golf course behind your house and we talked for hours. I remember how after I went home, I couldn’t fall asleep for hours because my mind was consumed with thoughts of you. I remember all the times I stayed up until the small hours of the morning crawled by just talking to you. I lay down every night now and think about the night you asked me to be yours and I remember how I could barely believe that it was happening to me.
I also remember how you started to ignore me. How one day you would make plans with me and just not show up. I did not forget how horrible you treated me. And yet I still miss you, even though it’s over.