I think about you everyday. It’s been almost 5 years since you ripped my heart from my chest – I love you, still. Few relationships later, currently 3 years deep. I’m not really sure why. It would be cliché to detail the short love we shared, but there is something that I need to say, maybe it’ll allow me to just, let go.
I absolutely, from a special place in my heart, fucking detest you. Everything you present to the world is garbage. I knew the real you, or at least I thought I did. I don’t know who this whole façade is. This “man” who talks down to women, this BOY who talks like his mother died years ago. I don’t understand what made you this way. I use to think it was me. I blamed myself for years. I even left in hopes that you would grow as a person – not whatever you want to call yourself.
I knew the young man who opened the doors for me, everywhere we went. He pulled my chair out, allowed me to be modest and innocent. And waited patiently for me to become truly comfortable. We gave ourselves to each other – something that we could never give for the first time ever again. We had a respect for each other. You had a respect for yourself. You had a respect for women. What the fuck happened to you?
You can’t blame me for your actions. As time progressed and your “big year” was approaching, I can understand your need to explore what else the world had to offer. By no means do I discourage it, did I discourage it. But to blame me for things you could never wrap your mind around, none the less show compassion for, is bullshit. Things that happened months prior – I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the same honesty you showed me. There is a shame that I carried for such a long time that I was not ready to share. You needed to know that.
But this person you’ve become, is disappointing. I miss your laugh, your smile, the way your goofy hand fit into mine. I miss when I first started dating you and people made fun of me for dating a “nerd” – funny how AFTER you dumped me over a fucking text message, everyone suddenly loved you. People who once shamed me, were drooling over you. But who cares what friends I lost, right? So long as they made you feel whole, while you left me with this black hole of a heart. But I suppose they were never true friends to begin with, right?
Forgive me, I’m still bitter. I hate that I’m bitter, because I am with a man who loves me, who wants to marry me. And I just can’t see past tomorrow. I do not blame you for these feelings, but I can’t help but to think of you when they arise. To relate you to them. You just make me so sad.
What would have been crushes my chest. To think had I just been honest, let you in, we would still be together. God, we would probably be engaged, if not married. We were so in love – and I know we were, I have the terribly written poems, the cards, the pictures. I know I didn’t imagine this person in my head. But why doesn’t anyone else remember it? Why did no one know I even existed after you? Why was I tortured?
We talked, remember, three months after? You told me who you were dating, or talking to, or having sex with. Call it what you want. And I was honest with you. Not in hopes you would come back, but because I had had enough. I could hear the hurt in your voice, the “why”. The, “I just want to know what happened that night.” The silence, the crying, the apologies. The lack of compassion you could conjure because you had ruined me. You had ruined us. You had done things that were unforgivable, that had pushed us past the point of no return. I had done things that were unforgivable, out of anger and sadness. Looking for someone to love me the way you once did. We were never the same after that night – We never looked at each other the same way, did we?
But showing your newly changed and TRUE colors, you turned around and voiced my deepest secret to everyone. Where I was then forced out. Where my mind was no longer a safe place. I don’t understand why you did this to me. I don’t know who put what bug in your hear, but you truly broke down what good I had left in me.
Everyone loves you, everyone envies you. And why?! You’re terrible, you’re crude and vulgar. You lack all respect for any human life. You truly are a disgusting person. But why, why do I still love you?
I’ve never said these things, I’ve never forced you to remember. I’ve never shared these things, because deep down all I want is for you to be happy. I don’t want you to wallow in my terrible feelings, in my pent up aggression. I don’t want you to remember. But I also don’t want to feel your rejection, yet again. Maybe that is what I’m afraid of after all. Maybe I’m terrified you won’t give a shit. You’ll tell me I’m crazy, we were young and dumb. You won’t love me back.
Those few years were perfect. I can honestly say I have thought of you every single day since I have known you. I can’t conjure up the courage to just talk to you. To try to be friends, I hate you and love you all at the same time. All in the pit on my heart, I keep you tucked away.
All because you won’t love me back – all because I loved you too much.