I don’t even know where to start. I think I’ll just tell our story from the time I saw you.
You were beautiful. Your accent was cute. You told me you liked my hat, and that I was pretty. Lots of boys had told me I was pretty. The funny thing is, I believed you.
I knew from the start that you were a player. I knew it and I tried to warn myself, but I couldn’t help falling for you. The way you talked to me, the things you said… Honestly, I’d never felt this way about ANYONE. It wasn’t love but it was something different, something strong. You were so irresistible. I spent my time thinking about you, waiting for you to start a conversation. I knew you were talking to so many other girls, but you made me feel like I was the only one. I knew there were prettier, sexier, funnier, skinnier, tanner, wittier, PERFECTER girls than me that you were talking to and it hurt and I just wanted you to myself. Of course you’d never pick me over them. I was just someone to flirt with when you were bored. I knew it all along, I knew it from the start.
But you fucked with my emotions. You made me so fucking happy. When I tried warning myself it didn’t work and I knew it all along, but in the end I think I wanted to fall for you. I wanted to fall in love and I wanted to be happy and I wanted to feel alive. And you did that for me. But you used me. It sucks that you had so much control over me and I meant nothing to you. You were everything to me.
And now, even after you did what you did, even after I know that I’m nothing to you, that you don’t care about me at all, that you’re a jerk, a player, and a liar, that you’re heartless and you’ll do anything for a good hook-up even if it means hurting someone, even now that I know all that, that you’re everything I shouldn’t want? I still want you.
You used to be the one thing that made me happy, now you’re the one thing keeping me from being happy.
You’re killing me.