why do you only call me when you're high? //kth

15• match day (part 2)

Those had truly been our worst moments. You didn't want to be around James when he was drunk. He turned into a completely different person. It was like someone clicked a switch inside him every time. Just thinking about it now made me cringe.

Possibly, that could be another reason why my brain linked this tense, uneasy feeling to being around James' friends. Those wild party nights used to be the only time I ever got to see them and let's just say- they weren't necessarily all that nice to me.

All this was bringing back feelings of doubt and low self esteem. It brought back flashbacks of fights and crying and of me feeling worthless.

For that short moment my eyes locked with his, it had felt like all the air was being knocked out of my lungs. I felt like I had overstepped a line. Me not coming to any of his games was sort of an unspoken rule during our relationship and now that we had split- I had even less business showing up.

I didn't know why that short moment of eye contact made this sudden feeling of panic bubble up inside me but I knew exactly what I had to do in moments like that. Get away and breathe. Think.

So that's exactly what I did. In no time I had found the bathroom. I entered a stall and sat down on the closed toilet seat because a girl was washing her hands when I walked into the bathroom and I needed more space to myself.

With my head resting on my arms that were propped up on my knees, I took a few deep breaths.

I had really thought I would've managed to move on by now. I thought I was beyond this point. Why was James still getting to me so much? Why did I still care?

He shouldn't be able to make me feel like this. Not anymore, not after all my little pep talks to myself and Sammy and Cat bringing my self esteem back up again to what it once was. I almost started laughing now for how I had been walking around at school with my head held high, thinking I screamed confidence.

Be strong. Believe in yourself.

It's what everyone tells you. It's what all those cute instagram posts written in neat little fonds tell you.

🌸Girlpower. Show them!🌸

..or whatever the fuck.. The truth of it felt far less empowering though. Because you know what? It's hard, okay? Believing in yourself is fucking hard. It's a challenge every single day.

I didn't know how all those girls did it. With their inspirational blogs and daily feel-good-quotes. I admired them. I envied them in a way.

Because they made it look so easy. And every damn time it left me wondering why I couldn't do that. Why I couldn't be so badass. Why it took me so long to just let things go.

I was 17 for heaven's sake. I didn't have it all figured out, not even close! Moments like right now, where I felt overwhelmed with everything really got to me.

James was my first for a lot of things and no matter how many times I get told I should move on already or that I needed to get my shit together with this, that it wasn't that deep- to me it was!

I never had to move on like this before! I never experienced heartbreak before. This was all new to me. And moving on was hard. Not thinking about it all the time, not putting myself down over it, was hard.

I knew what my mum would tell me if she knew what was going on inside my head right now. 'In the future you'll laugh about it, honey. In 10 years time you won't even remember the name of that boyfriend you had in high school.'