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i found a scrunched up piece of paper in my room today. it was a page that i wrote about you. the day that you broke my heart for the first time.
it read:
'when he looked me in my eyes and told me that "we should forget about what happened" my heart sunk. through my stomach and into the floor. i felt my cold eyes, well up with warm salty tears. i watched the happiness drift out of your face when you said it. your mouth, downturned, and your eyes went glassy and i couldn't see you. all i could see was someone who was afraid. afraid of what would happen if he didn't shut everything he was told that was 'wrong', out. you were so afraid, that you did. the thing you were afraid of was me.'
you didn't need to be afraid. i was never going to hurt you. but maybe you should've been afraid. maybe that first time we broke up, i should've just listened to your initial advice and just "forgotten what happened". maybe if we had have both forgotten, we wouldn't be in so much shit because of dumb love with the curtains open. maybe if you had have stayed afraid, we wouldn't be so broken.