I still don’t know why or how you could hurt someone as bad you did, but somehow you managed to take the best parts of me and make me second guess their worth. I’m pretty sure you’re enjoying university with your friends, and I saw you were tagged in a picture with some girls at a bar last weekend. Maybe you’re seeing someone knew, I don’t know, and I guess I won’t.
It’s been over a year and I really thought I would be over you and that I finally wouldn’t be reminded of all the stupid things we did together. But then I remember that I trusted you with things I really shouldn’t have. Every time I hear a new song I think you would enjoy, I wonder if you are listening to it wondering about me. There’s this guy on the bus I take to school that looks a lot like you, same crooked smile, deep blue eyes that I could easily get lost in, and sandy blonde hair I could run my hands through.
You’re probably fine and don’t think twice about what you did to me, how you violated my trust and our friendship. It’s so cruel how I can be really happy and then hear a song I probably would have overplayed last year and instantly be drowning in the memories we shared.
I mean, it’s normal to miss someone, but I can’t distinguish which parts of you were real and which were not. The person I thought I knew was not capable of such malicious acts. That’s probably the part that keeps me up at night, the fear of not knowing. I don’t understand how you can still impact my life after a full year has passed. You’ve moved on and every time I think I’m starting to, little reminders of you pop up and I make myself small. I think I do that a lot. I shrink so others won’t feel crowded, as though my presence is a burden.
I’ll be having the best time with my friends and all it takes is one song, one plaid shirt, one blonde haired blue-eyed guy to look at me the right way and my happiness is instantly crushed. I don’t trust others as often as I should, and I know that not all of them will ruin the best parts of me like you did.
My parents still ask about you sometimes, and I’m not sure why, but I never told them how you hurt me. I think, even after everything, I didn’t want people to see you in a bad light. I want my parents to think that you and I just drifted apart and that you were still the most polite and caring guy I had ever brought home. To be fair, you were the only guy I introduced them to that wasn’t just a friend. Perhaps that’s why they are always curious about where you are or what happened. I can’t imagine going through this again, so now I make sure none of my relationships ever make it to the “meeting the parents” phase.
I hope you know that I still see you in the simplest of things, and that’s difficult to deal with everyday. But, you know me (or you did at least), I get through it. It’s okay that you weren’t who I thought you were, in a way, it worked out for the better. I’m more cautious about letting people in and now have a loyal group of people that have my back and won’t disappoint me like you did. I’m sorry that I wasn’t what you were looking for. I hope the fantasy you live in was worth destroying something real.