Dear You

Dear Jerk, III

Dear Jerk,

I wish that had been the end of our story. You got a girlfriend, and I moved on, and we were still kind of friends. That would have been nice. 

So of course that's not what happened.

Soon after homecoming, we ran against each other for Student Council President. I wasn't planning on running originally, but one of our teachers told me I should try for it. I didn't realize it at the time, but if I had stayed out you would have been running unopposed.

I won. And you were mad. Not in a "not really," way anymore. Really.

You were bitter and resentful and no longer cute and mischievous. You were spiteful. I guess I always knew that that was you, but when I liked you I refused to see it. You stopped talking to me, and when you did, it was either mean or meaningless.

We didn't have any classes together this year, and we mostly ignored each other. You did come up to me in the lunch line to throw an orange at me one more time. It was no longer flirty.

"If you're going to keep telling people that I thew an orange at you, it may as well be true."

I had never let you forget that I held you accountable for that incident, even though I hadn't mentioned it in a while. I brushed the whole thing off, but I was hurt and confused.

Dear Jerk, I wish things hadn't changed between us. I wish you didn't hate me, mostly because as hard as I try, I can't hate you. I want to. I really do. But I can't quite. And that's what I hate you for the most.

I hate that you chose Her over me. I hate that when I think about now, I can't help but think about then, when things were different. I don't things will ever be that way again, and I wish they would. You hurt me because you genuinely liked me, and then it ended without any sort of closure for me. I guess it'll be easier to get over you when I realize that you're no good, you Jerk. But you weren't always, and goddamn it, my memory is just too good.

Here's to letting go, -Me