I know you’ll know this is to you when you one day read it. A year from now, two years from now, maybe even twenty.
I never thought that my first week at college I’d look at someone the way I looked at the first person I fell in love with. I never thought I would feel the urge to HAVE to talk to you. Sleep with you. It all hit me so fast.
Weeks went on after the first night with you, and I completely shut out the thought of feelings flourishing their way back into my life again.
I hoped and prayed that I was just a one night stand. I couldn’t be tricked into letting myself think otherwise.
But weeks flew by, and before I knew it, I found myself sound asleep in your bed more weekends than I anticipated. Or wanted. The worst part is, is I initiated almost all of it.
Being the tough little sister of three brothers, I had always told myself I would never let myself become the victim of someone else’s selfish lust. I would never come second, third, only first. But I somehow managed to channel all of my anger, hurt, and loss into you. And once I did that, I no longer had control of any emotion I once kept deep within. It was all in you. And I didn’t know how to get it back.
I hated that I yearned to see you, even for five seconds walking to or from class. I hated that you invested so much emotion into me on nights we spent together, but denied to yourself that you did. I saw the ways you looked at me, images burned into the depths of mind until somebody someday can superimpose them.
I was able to move forward, forget anything ever happened, until I found out what it was you so desperately tried to hide from me. Not from other girls you slept with, just me.
There was a girl back home.
I felt for her. I was once in that position. Always the first girl in line, but the girls behind me got their hit, too.
I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I never once thought that there was someone you were deceiving besides me. I didn’t see that in you, but I was so horribly wrong.
All I could think about was my past and how hurt being cheated on made me. How jaded it caused me to be, how I invested so much time into a sad, sick waste of a human being.
I never told him how hurt I was. I never approached him about it after I found out months after we separated. Because of this, I erupted with twenty times the anger I already had. A slow, burning wick of anger, all thrown onto you.
It was a slow, but sure eruption. I verbally tormented you for the rest of the year. You lied to me, but you didn’t deserve all the hate I spewed onto you. For that I’m sorry. I’m sorry you were my inadvertent experiment of how not to deal with anger and vengeance.
I have gone days thinking about you, and now that the semester is coming to a close and you’re graduating while I return home, I can find closure.
I may never forget about you, but I will find a way to let these feelings disintegrate into the very fire I set for the both of us.
You never apologized to me, but I forgave you a long time ago.
Best of luck.