I was in love with you.
And you know what you did?
You fucking took my heart and smashed it into tiny pieces. And then you took those pieces, and you mixed them with acid and made me eat them. Then you cut them out of my stomach and put them through a meat grinder
All the while laughing as I stood there wholeheartedly believing every word you said.
Then you sit here, expecting me to be okay with it all. Not even caring that when you hugged me on Tuesday or texted me yesterday that my world would fall a little bit more.
The things I did for you. Things I would have done for you. Did they mean nothing?
I deliberately disobeyed my parents on multiple occasions for you. I lied to my family and endured their torment for the sake of our relationship that wasn't even official.
All the dreams wasted on you. All the songs stupidly dedicated to you.
I can't listen to my favorite albums now because I used to identify them with you.
I can't go to sleep at night because I'm afraid that as soon as I close my eyes, your face will be there and our memories will play out like a movie in which we knew the ending to and still watched anyways.
I have to compulsively clean my room and watch The League just to distract myself from the evil thought that is your name. Because if I'm quiet for just a second, I'll feel your arms around me in the hallway. I'll see my hands intertwined with yours under the breakfast table. I'll relive the times that we kissed in the middle of math class, dangerously knowing that if the teacher saw we would be in so much trouble.
And all that meant nothing to you.
Because my torture is your amusement.
The morning after it ended, I was fine. I was happy. I accepted the fate that I accurately predicted.
And I guess you couldn't stand that. Because you came up to me at the water fountain and wrapped yourself around me when I was least expecting it. And for a second, you gave me horrible hope that I was stupid enough to believe in.
And all the joy and peace I'd felt just moments before crashed into a pit of absolute tragedy when you whispered that you were sorry.
But sorry doesn't mean anything.
If you knew you couldn't finish it, then why did you start it???
YOU ARE READING
Things About Ben
Non-FictionWe were destructive and perfect and everything that anyone ever longed for. Except, I loved you, and you just wanted to not be lonely anymore. These are all the things I wish I could say to you.
