"Hey, do you think we could start saying 'Good morning' to each other?"
"..."
"If not – don't worry about it."
"no it's fine. we can."
"Okay, sweet. How's your day been?"
"good."
"Good morning."
"good morning."
"Do you still like me?"
"yes. why do you keep asking me that?"
"I just have a feeling you don't sometimes idk. Dw, I'm just being weird."
"good morning."
"How are you?"
"it's been ok."
"Want to hang out?"
"can it be later? i'm tired from the game and i'm all sweaty."
"Good morning. Where are you?"
"sorry, I forgot. can we make it for another time?"
"I haven't seen you in months."
"Are you home? Let's hang out."
"Want to come over? My family is here."
"i feel like i should do it properly some other time instead of having to awkwardly say hi and bye and i still have to do a few house chores."
"Hey?? You awake??"
"sorry, I just woke up. i have to leave in an hour. don't think we have time to hang. sorry i overslept."
"Morning. Where are you? It's been an hour and I'm still standing here."
"sorry, i overslept."
"This is the third time. Do you even want to hang?"
"i wanted to hang out but i overslept. i'm sorry."
"Would you even care if we broke up?"
"Do you even care about me?"
"why do you keep asking me these questions?"
"Why aren't you answering me?? It's been 4 days."
"Sorry for being so demanding. I've just been really stressed lately. Can you just answer me please?"
"Answer me this one time. Please."
"Are you avoiding me? This is making me kinda sad here. Seriously."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm worried about you."
"Miss you."
"Are you ignoring me?"
"Can we please talk?"
"i'm super busy this week. it'll have to be next week."
"I'm sorry for nagging."
"I'm sorry."
She looks back at your old texts. She knows your actions mean one thing, but your words sound like someone else.
She finds it hard to reread old conversations; your texts stretch open old wounds, each punctuation stings; she sounded so scared back then.
She always frantically asked the same questions; "do you still like me?" "are you there??" "are you okay?" "I'm sorry I keep nagging."
She could never tell if you really cared about her. It worried her; she knew she meant nothing to you, but she didn't want to believe it until you said it. Which you never did. So, she stayed in the house you built her, tightly holding onto the roses you gave her; refusing to notice the thorns that pressed into her hands, mistaking her blood for tears.
Little did you know she was slowly dying behind the walls you built. She wanted you to be the first one to walk through the door – not her walking out.
She stayed in your dark home, knowing she wasn't locked in and she could leave as she pleased. But she thought she could handle it. She thought she'd be fine in there. So she stayed when everyone told her to leave. She told herself she was tough enough,
Forgetting love wasn't about 'how long you can last', but 'how can we grow together'.
She calls for you sometimes. She thinks she's waiting for you, but when you come home, it isn't to stay with her.
You decide to let her go. You're bored with her.
You open the door and think she's crazy; she's jumping to conclusions; she's angry, frantic and scared. Her eyes are tired, her skin hasn't touched light in so long, and she doesn't even try to speak because she's learned her voice doesn't mean anything behind your walls.
You persuade her that you both agree it's time she leave – so she does.
People wonder why she stayed so long in his house; they told her to get out; that he was no good.
But how could she leave – his roots ran so deep into her heart; ripping them out would be a sharp pain and she'd rather a slow discomfort she could tolerate.
As she rereads your old texts,
She's almost embarrassed as she discovers how crazy she sounded. But she knows that level of insanity couldn't have all been her – he took part in driving her to this point.
If he didn't take days to respond or treated her like she was worthless, she wouldn't have been so desperate or angry.
And he couldn't see that. He didn't understand feelings.
He never understood her.
...
*Are you sure you want to delete this conversation?*
...
..
*Yes.*
Before reading your old texts, she missed The Old You; the chase, the beginning when the first flower made her blush, when you kissed with your heart, not your lips, teases were only playful, laughs were more common.
She is mortified that she let you treat her that way. She is embarrassed at how crazy she sounded. She is sad because she was so broken when she was with you – and there was no stopping it.
No girl deserves to cry about how embarrassed she felt around you.
No girl deserves to cry about how worthless she felt with you.
No girl deserves to cry about how ashamed she is to have let the relationship get so far.
YOU ARE READING
Sad Girl Clapback *Now Available in Amazon*
Non-Fiction*PUBLISHED as 'Tired of Being Tired, Sick of Being Sad' by Azia To *now on amazon* This is the book I wish I had when I was 12, 13, 14 and growing up until I was 20. It's the stuff I wish I told my high school self. *** This is how I feel - these a...
