You broke me. You tore me at the seams. But I never saw you tear me. I only ever saw the good. Because that’s what I do and maybe you knew that. Maybe you knew I would endlessly take your shit because that’s who I am as a person. Maybe you knew that I would always see you as the boy with the crooked smile and mischievous green eyes. Maybe you knew I would always close my eyes for the bad parts as if I was watching a horror movie. Except I was the star and you were the antagonist. You don’t know this but you broke me. You took my heart and walked away. You didn’t smash it or rip it into two, no you just left and took my heart with you. So I can’t be mad at you. I can only ever be sad at what’s left of “us”. And you’ll never read this and that’s okay. But if you do one day read this because you stumble upon it whilst finding ways to screw others over. Know that you broke me.
You took something from me that is irreplaceable and you ruined my future, you took my color and turned it grey. Do you even regret anything you did to me? Probably not, because to you, you were only being a “dumb, boy, teenager” and I of course need to lighten up and “take it with a grain of salt”.
You JGD were no good for me. You took away my last piece of trust and tore it the minute you let that sweet liquor into your throat, and you smashed it the minute you pressed your lips to a girl who wasn’t me at a party you swore you wouldn’t drink at. But I forgave you, because that’s who I am, but you already knew that. Didn’t you? You knew that with enough crying and sweet talking I would fall back into your arms and I did. I did without fear, because I still believed you were a good kid, just a little broken on the inside. I still believed you, actually wanted me. But not my body. Me. The actual me. The angry, loud, obnoxious, scared, and terrified, me. Not just me. Only to find out you were still lying to me all the time. You even went as far as smoking with my own damn brother. Were you even thinking? Apparently he has great stories about you. But I can’t even hear somebody say your name without my stomach flipping. So I will never know those stories and it’s probably for the better.
You will define every future boyfriend. So congrats you’re basically immortal. You will now make me question a boy who deserves nothing but trust when he tells me he’s just “going to go hangout with friends for the night” because you stole that identity from me. You took any trust I had left to give and you smashed it the minute you walked through the door to a party you already knew you would drink at. Because you made the conscious decision to lift that bottle to your lips. Just like you made the decision to press your lips against hers. I will never trust a boy ever again, because you made one bad poor decision that I shook off for love. Or the idea of love as it turns out.
I flinch now, like I used to be beat. I flinch when I feel a guy make a move on me. Either verbally or physically. I flinch like a dog who spent the first half of his life being abused. I flinch worse then you back out of promises.
Moral of the story? I thought you were truly the greatest thing for me. But turns out while you made me feel sober, you actually made me drunk. Drunk on the need to be needed and loved, and I was just a starved puppy who forgave. So thank you, thank you for taking my heart and just walking away. Thank you, for making me flinch like a fucking chihuahua. Thank you for taking my trust and smashing it to bitter pieces.
Author Notes: I’m no longer sorry that I don’t have you to call on my bad days.