What he did to me was not okay.
I loved him, for years. I gave him everything i had. I stayed up skipped important meetings, missed lessons and worst of all ruined my own relationships with people in my life for his love. But did I ever get it back.
For a moment, perhaps. I saw a glimpse of what we could be, who we one day may grow to become. But then I saw him for what he was. He gave me that moment, as I'm sure he gave so many other women. He broke my fucking heart. Not in a nice way, he shattered it into a million pieces and left me behind. He had no idea how I felt, so if he never felt the same I would be okay. But I know he did. I know he felt how I felt, I know he knew I can't live without him. He knew how my heart beat faster for him. He knew how my stomach fluttered whenever he called. But he just didn't care.
He made it seem like he did. He knew when I was pulling away and said the right things. I used to think that had something to do with me. That he knew me so well, he knew what I needed to hear.
I was stupid. I am young, I am naive. I let him in, in a way that I could never let him out. It hurts me when I spend a single day without him, without his voice, without his witty remarks.
What hurts the most is that I know he wants nothing but the best for me. He's the one person I would leave everything for. Anything he wants from me, I'd give it to him in a heartbeat. My dreams, my aspirations, my friends anything. If he asked me to leave it all, I would. Without thinking twice. To be called his would give me more joy than anything.
It doesn't hurt because nothing ever happened. It hurts because I know he is my person. Nobody will get me the way he does. He knows he, he knows me fully and completely. He's seen me bare and vulnerable. But he just kept going with the other, possibly getting the same from them.
But fuck all that.
He knew and still led me on. Yet still I talk to him everyday. Life when he does not call, is a grey sky, polluted with thoughts of regret and pain. But when he talks to me, I feel like the only girl in the world. I get the overjoying happiness, romance novels talk of, the pit in my stomach fades.
My love is volatile and it burns.
My love is fleeting.
