Borderline Personality Poetry

The Boy

// here is a story... \\

Every time I look at him I feel so much hurt.

And the way it tears him apart, also tears me apart.

His shaggy mess of hair slid across his forehead and bright brown eyes so full of compassion.

I remember it, the night he called crying.

Telling me I'm the only one who understands.

And I remember when he told me he wanted to kill himself Christmas Eve and I called him 7 times to make sure he didn't.

Because he was the best thing that had happened to me.

He grew fond of me, and he told me he loved me.

I loved him too, but only as a brother.

He loved me more than that.

I took that attention and I thrived on it.

But I would never be his, claiming it would ruin our friendship.

That's when he got a girlfriend.

I wasn't mad until she started playing him like a grand piano.

I told him stay away from her but he didn't listen.

His heart yearned for female attention, the attention his mother never gave him.

And he started drifting away from me.

I got so sad and so mad that I went off on him. How dare he leave me to be with another girl!

"I thought you loved me!" I would tell him, and he would look at me with confusion laced in his eyes.

I had changed my mind. I was hopelessly in love with every single curve and every angle and every edge of him and I wanted to pick up his pieces and fix him.

I bid him a goodbye telling him to never come back, and he says a sad goodbye back.

But then I'm angry.

How dare he not beg me to stay with him. I would sob, believing it was all his fault. I would tell him criticizing words about how he hurt me.

He beat himself up over that.

And after a month of not talking I would call him in the middle of a panic attack and I would sway back and forth and he would just go along with it.

He would whisper into the phone, "shh.. I know... It will be over soon... I love you so much... Never forget that okay?... Please don't hurt yourself...."

And he would tell me funny stories about his life until my heart would come back into its normal pace again.

I was so sure of my love towards him.

But he had already been through 3 girlfriends since the last time we talked.

He had a girlfriend now and she was terrible to him.

No girl would ever love him like I love him.

And then he called me crying again, telling me that she broke his heart.

And then he sent me pictures of slit wrists and I couldn't help but feel hopeless.

I would cry out to him, "No no no no please don't please it hurts me seeing you like this please..."

And the next day his ex came running back to him.

I was furious with him for giving her another chance, and I was sure to let him know just how angry I was by yelling and screaming.

He just turned away and it seemed all he cared about now was her.

He claimed that if I couldn't respect his decisions then he couldn't be my friend.

But I was so angry and frustrated! I cried, tears running down my cheeks.

I didn't want him to hurt like that again. Ever. I hated the girl but I would never admit that to him.... Until one day I did.

I got soo so so drunk off a full bottle of vodka.

Everything was a haze and the only thing I can remember is him holding me and me crying drunken tears onto his torso, leaving mascara stains.

And I remember him getting so soaked with tears that he took his shirt off, continuing to rock me back and forth telling me he loved me and giving me soft cheek kisses.

And I just loved him with his shirt off and I remember scrambling words about how his girlfriend was a "bitch" and that "I hated her" and he had to stand up and walk away from me to keep from letting himself blow up.

He refused to tell me the remains of what happened that night.

All I remember from my drunken state was having the worst panic attack.

The person who was also with me while I was drunk was my best friend.

Apparently they had bonded while I was sad and drunk, and they became great friends.

Leaving me in the dust.

And I confronted him. How dare he treat me like trash?!

And he told me "please just leave"

And I cried and I cried and I cried so fucking hard so that my eyes were puffy and red and swollen and I just screamed to the top of my lungs in my pillow and I remember feeling so hopeless.

He is gone for good.

And now I am very depressed.

I saw him the other day, with my "best friend". They were laughing.

And he didn't notice me.

That weekend my best friend came over and we went to church

She had went to the bathroom and called him crying. I could hear her on the phone, her sobbing and him probably helping her through it.

While I was in the background listening.

And I tried so hard not to cry right there.

Because that used to be me and him and now my so called "best friend" is now his best friend.

After church we had smoked some weed. She decided to call him and once he heard she was hanging out with me, he hung up.

She said he started crying and cutting himself.

And then the next day I went to my bathroom and I cried and I cut and I screamed because the hell if I wasn't going to punish myself for being the reason he was depressed.

Is it selfish that I hoped to be the reason he was sad?

I just want another chance.

I love him so much.