Recovery

My Problem

I want to hate him- my God, I want to absolutely loathe that boy. I want to look straight into those rings of hazel planted in between his freckle spotted nose and feel nothing but disgust because of the hell he put me through. I honestly want that more than anything.

But as soon as I think I'm over it, as soon as I convince myself that I'm better off without him, I'll run into him on the street or bump into him as I'm walking out of class, and I start to feel that spot in my heart where he used to be. It aches and aches and aches until it feels like I can't even breathe and he's the only thing that could possibly get my lungs working again. My mind starts to race with thoughts of him and us and everything we used to be.

I think of the way he used to smile at me when we were both lost in a crowd of people, like he was trying to pull me closer to him with nothing but a subtle smirk and a twinkle in his eye. I think of what his skin felt like against mine, and even though it was in the most innocent of ways, how utterly thrilling it felt to just touch him and know he was right there next to me. I think of the look he gave me that night when those first chords of my favorite song started filling the air- like he was telling me that he knew me, that he wanted me, with just a glance.

And in those moments, I know that I'm lying to myself. No matter what I do or how hard I try, I'll always love him. I can't imagine a day that I won't.