Dear Sweet Pea,
I absolutely hate this. Let’s run down a basic of the story.
We started texting, and we texted a LOT. We got really close over a week or two. We really understood each other. I was starting to trust you. I wanted to help you, to try and make you a happier person. I accepted you for you, and all the crap you had done. And you know as well as I do, that it was a lot. All the drugs you had done, pain you had suffered, girls you had slept with. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be there for you. You were easy to talk to. You said that you had a feeling that we were more then friends in a past life. That we used to be really close in that life. Yeah, I’ll admit it, I had a little crush, but I was ignoring it. You have a girlfriend, and I’m engaged.
Anyways. After that week or two, we stopped talking. You said that, “We couldn’t continue talking like this. It would be too easy to fall in love with me.”
So we stopped talking. I cried. For days. You meant a lot to me. I pulled out my phone to text you so many times, and so many times I typed out a text. One day, I was finally brave enough to just delete your number.
One of those, “Truth is…” on Facebook, made us talk again. It was my status, and I told you that I thought you were a great person, I missed talking to you, but this was the way you wanted it. You messaged me and said you didn’t want it that way, and we started talking again.
Everybody told me not to bother. You would just leave again. I chose not to believe them. I chose to believe in you.
So we started talking again. We got close again. Almost like we never stopped talking. We ended up confessing that we really liked each other.. Enough to cheat on our significant others. (We never did though.) You begged me to come see you at work, and many times I made time to. I thought we were doing great. We were talking, getting along, and I think that I was starting to brighten your world.
Then about 2:16 a.m, I got a text.
“Have a great life, (my name). Goodbye.”
I got read it about 6:30 a.m. I sent three messages begging you not to leave, not to do this, and to please text me.
I texted our mutual friend. He let me come over.
I was so upset. I felt lonely. I cuddled with him.
We made out. We went to second base. We spent several hours together, cuddling, sleeping.
I sent you a nasty text. I needed closure. I cursed. A lot. I mentioned all the pain you had put me through, and how I just wanted to be a good friend. I mentioned how I believed in you, how I deserved better than to just be tossed to the side without explanation. I was pissed. It was clear in my text. You texted back. You asked what pain? I told you that it was the pain of you leaving… again, without even an explanation. You told me that you couldn’t explain it, couldn’t even comprehend it. I told you that we both knew better then that. You were plenty smart. I was still pissed. Still cursing. And I don’t even curse. You know that.
Then I sent my final message and it went a little like this…
“Don’t ever text me again, (Your name here). Just stay the fuck away from me.”
I’ve been trying hard not to get all depressed over this. I deleted you from my phone. From Facebook. I’ve been keeping busy. And I don’t even care if you come back to me, groveling. You’re going to have to try a whole hell of a lot harder. I’m tired of being hurt.
I miss you. I probably always will.
I love you. I probably always will.
I wish it wasn’t like this. I’m not angry anymore, or at least, not as much. I’m crying just writing this letter, because it’s just so sad.
I wish you didn’t walk away.
But it’s time for me to be strong. I’m not going to force my way into your life, when it’s so obvious that you don’t want me there.
You always told me to dream. And that I would remember you from that past life.
Well, I’m dreaming, and I’m remembering you. From the past life, from this life.
I wish you the best.
I hope you get a miracle and your Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma gets better.
I hope you quit smoking.
I hope you become happy.
I hope you’re missing me and thinking of me as much as I am you.
I hope you’re regretting walking away.
It’s time for me to walk away and never look back.
Boy, I’ll never forget you, but I’m going to try.
Your memory hurts so much.
– The Girl Who Cared….
But You Threw Her Away.