well, that didn't work: an autobiography

questions

sometimes i wonder if you think of me and how much you hurt me. you can't look me in the eye, yet you were the one whose last words to me were like twisting a knife into my side. how do you live with yourself? how do you sleep at night knowing that every time we make awkward eye contact you're piercing daggers into my soul? when you sweet talk other girls, do you use the words you used on me? do you know how uncomfortable you make our friends feel when we're in the same room?

do you know the number of nights i stared at my wall wondering when i could fall asleep and be without the agonizing thought of you in the back of my mind?

or how many times i have sat in someone's arms and sobbed because of the guilt built up in my chest?

was i just another girl to you?

—questions i ask you (and deny that i actually know the answer to all of them)