It’s been seven months since I broke up with you. It’s been seven months, of what’s hard to believe is regret. Believe it or not, but I actually do regret breaking up with you. Even though what you did wasn’t right, but was wrong. I still do regret it, and I wish I never said “we’re done”…because typing those words and sending them, felt even worse than what you told me. It hurt, because I loved you and cared for you, more than I did myself. Believe it or not I still do, not in the same way as before, but I still do.

But that day, that I can’t seem to forget, still hurts me just by thinking of it. On May 12th when you told me at lunch you needed to tell me something serious, I thought nothing bad. I thought what you wanted to tell me, was because a week before I had told you I loved you. I had told you all my feelings about you. How you made me happy, how I was happy to be with you, how happy I was to be around you and to hug you and to kiss you. How I smiled just by the thought of you, and if I tried to stop smiling, I would smile even more. How cheesy I got when I would see you in the morning, at lunch, after school or the weekends. I told you everything. And everything I sent you…I meant it. What’s usually the hardest, was easy for me because I knew it was true. When I said I loved you at the end of everything else I told you. I meant it, and I still do mean it now even tho I don’t tell you.

But what you had to say wasn’t what I thought. What you told me ripped me apart. You told me that you had got with another girl while with me. That you had talked her since April 20th. It had only been two weeks the two of you were talking when you agreed to go out with her when she asked. But then you continued, and said you didn’t care about her, that you didn’t even like her. In that moment, it took everything in me to not break down and cry. Even though on the outside I had looked fine, on the inside I was actually dying. And no I’m not over exaggerating. What I felt was truly heartbreaking. It felt as if you ripped my heart out and stepped on it like you didn’t care about me. I’m not exaggerating because that’s what you did. You took me and my love for granted. And you stepped all over it not caring about the damage you were doing to me. After you finished telling me what you wanted to tell me, I had to go home. I walked away in hopes of you coming after me and telling me, it was me that you wanted not her. That you loved me. But instead, you let me walk away while you called your friends and told them you’d be able to go.

I got in the car trying so hard to hold back the tears so my dad wouldn’t see. And ask what’s wrong. I got home and went straight to my room and cried. The sentence “I got with another girl” raced around my head and no matter how many times I tried to think of something else I couldn’t. The thought of who this girl was raced around my head and wouldn’t stop until I knew who she was.

About two weeks late you posted a picture of her on you Instagram. It was the first picture I saw when I opened the app. And I cried and I couldn’t stop because the sentence “I don’t care about her…I don’t even like her” popped up. And suddenly I filled with anger that you had not only cheated, but had lied. I was no longer crying tears of pain and sadness. But tears of anger. Eventually I found out who she was and many times I had wondered if she knew about me and didn’t care about ruining our relationship. Or if she didn’t know and that’s why she asked you out. Because looking at her pictures, she didn’t look like the type of girl to go and ruin someone relationship. So I figured you never told you. You never told her because maybe you didn’t love me or care enough about me to let another girl you were with me.

As time went on, like a dummy I waited for you. I waited for you to realize it was me and not her. That I cared and actually loved you. I waited five months for you to see it was me and for to ask for another chance. But I while waiting those five months. I had learned to live without you, I would think of you but not as much. The thought of you, seeing you, or hearing your name, had no longer brung tears to my eyes. In fact I had felt nothing at all.

Recently you had asked if I missed you and I lied and said no. The truth is I do, I do miss you. I miss you so much but I don’t tell you because I feel as if you’ll use that to take advantage of me the feelings I still have for you. You asked if I trusted you and I said I was learning to again. You told me if that little bit of trust would eventually grow and you asked for another chance if I would give it to you I said yea.

But I hope that if I ever do learn to trust you completely and give you and another chance that you don’t make me look stupid again. That if we break up it’s not because of you cheating or something worse but because we no longer feel for each other. And maybe just maybe we don’t but we live our lives together and hope for the best.