It was a Thursday.
I can remeber that.
Sometime in February.
Maybe it wasn't February.
Maybe it was June.
I can't remember what the calendar said that day.
I just remeber that it was a Thursday.
I saw you in the hallway, standing at your locker.
I knew that it was only a matter of time before you saw me, too.
I tried to avoid you.
But when has that ever worked for me?
Your hand wrapped around my wrist.
I tried to pull away.
I knew you wouldn't make a scene at school.
"Sweete, don't be a bitch."
Your fake smile made the words burn through your clentched teeth.
"Baby, I'm done dealing with this."
I tried to make my words hurt you the way yours hurt me.
They didn't.
"We'll talk about this later."
I knew what that meant.
It meant that I should make reservations at the hospital.
"No."
It felt odd to say that word.
Like I'd never said it before.
"What did you say to me?"
They were looking now.
Half of the rumors were being confirmed by the way you were looking at me.
"I said no."
I struggled to look into your eyes.
There was no turning back now.
"You don't want to do this. Believe me."
Your eyes were filled with threat.
"Yes, I do. I'm not gonna put up with your bullshit. This is over. WE are over."
You paused.
This wasn't what you expected.
"You'll never find anybody who loves you the way I did."
I scoffed.
"That was love? I call that hate. I hate you with a burning passion."
You subconciously let go of my arm.
"Nobody could love you anyway. I tried, it just isn't possible."
Now, that one hurt.
I belived you.
I still do.
Everytime somebody tells me they love me, I remember those words.
Sometimes I wonder if you realize how much you fucked with my mind.
I'm done dwelling on the past.
This is my last letter.
Sincerely,
Broken Beyond Repair