When we were sixteen, Missy had figured out how I had really felt about you. And despite how hard I denied it and how much I fought her on it, it was too much for her.. she couldn't handle our friendship anymore, so we had broken up.
And much like she had feared, you were the first person I went to.
I had been heartbroken. Despite my feeling for you, she had taken a small piece of my heart over the years we had spent together. And although I had been heartbroken, I couldn't help but feel relieved.
Being single... being free meant I could spend more time with you. It meant that although I couldn't have you or be with you the way that I had truly wanted to, I could at least pretend for a while.
So I ranted and cried for hours after we ended it. While you watched me with your large doe eyes, failing at pretending you were truly heartbroken by our separation. And at that moment I wanted nothing more for you to tell me she hadn't been worth it.
I wanted you to see that I had only ever loved you. That she had just been a substitute for everything I had felt for you, despite the love I had grown to feel for her.
But it wasn't fair to her and it wasn't fair to you.
So, I broke your heart just a little bit more and forced my love for her to be more than my love for you... to hide my love for you.
I wasn't good for you, and Missy had been right to end it.
Turns out I wasn't good for her either.
Guess I felt like I was right to push you away in fear of being like my father.
Because I was exactly like him... and maybe I still am.
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