“Cause its always raining inside my head, forget all the things I should have said.”
This is an amazing song, with an amazing lyric, and I think of you every time I hear it. Everyone told me that I needed to talk to you about what we were doing …
• What did it all mean?
• What were you and I exactly?
• Once the semester was over and we went home for the summer, what would happen?
• What would happen when we got back to school; would our compilations of one night stands continue?
All questions left unanswered because I didn’t have the confidence to ask. Honestly, I think I just wasn’t prepared to get my heartbroken, even though that turned out to be inevitable. We never spoke of what we did; it would happen, you would leave, and that was it. It was apparent that everything we did meant way more to me than it did to you. I mean, to me, losing my virginity was supposed to be important. I was supposed to be in love with the guy, I was supposed to mean something to him. But no, I lost my virginity at 2 o’clock in the morning, drunk on the bathroom floor of my dorm room to you, a guy who just didn’t care. You made excuses to come over, and then once you were satisfied, you would just stroll down the hall back to your room and leave me to fall asleep alone. But for some reason, I accepted that. I knew that if we became something or came out with our unspoken arrangement it would just complicate things within our group of friends. All in all, I convinced myself that if you were having sex with me, I must have meant something. My flight home from school was the hardest flight of my life. I knew I was flying 1,000 miles away from you, and that was something I just couldn’t handle.
About a week after I got home, you and your friends drunk dialed me. I didn’t mind though, I seemed to always talk to you and your friends when you guys drank, and typically it was just pure entertainment. What came of this particular conversation though was all I needed to know. Once your friends started asking me “how _____’s dick tasted,” I was done. I felt so embarrassed and belittled. And all you had to say about it when I confronted you about it the next day was that it was just your friends. Once again, I chose to believe the best in you and move on. But then, a month later, when it happened again, all I got was a text telling me that it was _____. Cool, thanks for the apology. Oh wait, no, you didn’t apologize, you just passed off the blame again onto a friend. You didn’t defend me to your friends, you didn’t tell them to stop. You sat there, let them talk to me in such a condescending manner and decided it could be fixed with a text.
I don’t know what is wrong with me, because even that didn’t stop me from befriending you. I couldn’t make things awkward between us by getting mad due to the fact that we have such a tight knit group of friends who didn’t know about what went on between us, so explaining the tension would have been impossible.
“Learn to let go of things that hurt you because if it’s really meant for you, you shouldn’t be hurting in the first place.”
The thought of us actually being together is what hurts me. Every time I see you online, or I see you post on someone’s wall, or comment on someone’s status/picture, I go crazy. Seriously, social networking is the worst vice. It allows me to see what you are doing and who are you talking to and I hate not being able to look away. But I really need to stop, because honestly this isn’t healthy.
I shouldn’t give you the power to control my emotions, but I do. I shouldn’t wake up everyday sad because I know you’re not my boyfriend, but I do. I shouldn’t get upset at the fact that you had sex with a recent high school grad on a cot in the woods because you and I were never in a relationship, but I do. I shouldn’t get mad every time I see or hear your name, but I do. I need to stop bring you up in random conversations because it somehow makes me feel closer to you, but I probably wont. I need to let you go, and eventually, I will.