It’s four years later. Four. And you still affect every aspect my life. The anger I feel towards you is unparalleled by anything else, and yet I also still have dreams of being in your arms. All I want is for you to leave my life for good, to have never existed, for me to have never transferred schools and for you to have stayed away from me forever. It’s weird- because we were never really official. You led me on more than anyone ever has and shattered me more than anyone ever could. The funniest part is everyone told me to run, and they told me I would have my phase, and I never believed them. My friends would joke with me in health class when we were learning about toxic relationships because I marked off every box that pointed towards toxicity. Every box. And I still stood by your side. My friends told me they hated me, I fought with my family and friends that I had for years. I was more depressed than I ever had been before and you encouraged it.
And it still affects me, you live in a different state and you’re blocked on every form of communication from me, and all I think about is you. I think about our sleepovers in your basement, and how you would hold me. I think about prom and how special I felt when you looked at me in the eyes and told me how much you loved me. And I think about how you not only supported my deepening depression, but encouraged it. And how my parents hated me and you.
I think about how I never was enough no matter what I did, and how you were always enough for me. How you blame me for your severe mental health issues, and how you turned everyone against me. How you told me to “go f*ck myself” and how you wouldn’t even stand in the same room as me. I think about how the most relatable Taylor Swift song to me is “Dear John” and how I cry every time I hear it because I have felt every word. How I still can’t even be intimate with people because I worry I won’t be enough and I’ll disappoint them, as I did you. Most of all I think about how you still affect me every single day of my life.
Four years later and I think about you every damn day. Sometimes I even regret our “breakup” and wish we were still together, which is the most f*cked up. I miss you. And that disgusts me. I look through pictures and videos mourning the loss of our relationship that never was, because of you. I have never hated a person more, or missed someone more either. But I guess that makes sense for you, as you never made sense anyways to begin with. I changed myself, physically, mentally, emotionally, and in every other way possible to be enough for you and I never was. Sometimes I hope you aren’t doing better, and that you suffer just as I did. But now, I hope you are, not for you but only for every other person who has the misfortune of crossing paths with you. May they have more luck than I did.
Go f*ck yourself.