Miserable At Best

I guess it all started freshman year. First day of high school, ready to move on from everything. It wasn't really until the second or third quarter that I noticed you. I saw you in the halls, walking and laughing and carrying on with your life. I thought you were attractive, but never thought much of it. You had a girlfriend. Nadia. She was so beautiful. You were with her for about 3 years, I believe. I remember at a friend's birthday party, she was there. That's when we became friends. And she would tell me all about you and I felt so terrible because I knew that with ever word she uttered about you was one more step closer to me falling head over heels in love with you. We stopped talking eventually. And then, one day, you message me on Facebook. A few innocent conversations were held, maybe some subtle flirting. Anyways, you and Nadia broke up one day. It was surprising, honestly. She seemed to happy about it. Apparently you were always lying to her and cheating on her. At least, that's what she told me. I didn't believe her. I refused to believe that you could do that to her. You even denied every word she said and made me believe that you treated her like a princess. She moved on, got a new boyfriend. You were so depressed for so long. You walked around school constantly fucked out of your mind with a mixture of different drugs and occasionally alcohol. We never really knew each other until then. Never really friends. I felt so bad for you. I saw you and I just wanted to hold you and kiss you and reassure you that life will go on. I wasn't your friend. You rendered me useless. All I could think to do was take some stupid stuffed sock monkey and write you a note explaining that if you ever needed a shoulder to cry on, I was there. You replied with a note thanking me and a beaded bracelet with my name on it. I still have that bracelet. At one point you messaged me on Facebook. That's what started it all. That's where it all really began. We would talk everyday. Our conversations would never get boring and finally I got you to stop being so upset. You stopped talking about Nadia 24/7. You started flirting with me, no longer subtly. At this point I was obsessed. I wanted you so badly. All I ever thought about was you and my friends even noted that I would constantly talk about how funny and sweet you were. I remember the first time I came to your house alone. That's when you kissed me. Your lips were so soft. I remember how I felt. Surprised, confused, ecstatic. Following that kiss was a heavy makeout session that including a lot of grinding and quite a bit of sweating. I left feeling loved and wanted. You made me so happy... A few months later, you come over to my house. At this point, our conversations were becoming dull. You were becoming less passionate. You no longer told me you loved me. But for some reason, I gave myself to you. I let you have sex with me because I was (and still am) just a hopeless teenage girl with the insane idea that if I let you inside of me, you'll love me. I don't know what I expected. A week later, I come to school to find you holding hands with one of my best friends. My heart sunk to my stomach. I confront her about this, she says you're just friends. I tell her what we did and begged her not to say yes if you asked her to be yours. She agreed. But, of course, later on she says yes to you. You deny it. You deny everything. Then I force the information out of you and you finally let everything out. That was when you tell me that everything we did was just because you felt bad for me. You felt bad that I was so lonely and you pitied me for loving you and so you pretend to be interested in me. Nadia was right, you're such a good liar. That was basically my breaking point. For weeks, I was a zombie. I didn't laugh. I didn't smile. I was just... Barely alive. And then I saw that you two broke up. And it's beyond me why I decided to talk to you again. Ever since that incident we've never been the same. All of our conversations are the same. You don't even look at me in the hallways anymore. I asked one day if you wanted to come over, no intentions of doing anything sexual. I lay on my bed, you cuddle up next to me. I could feel my heart skip beats. I could feel myself falling for you all over again. And then you kissed me. Everything in me was screaming not to do it. But I just loved you so much... Again, a week later I see you kissing another girl. It's been two weeks since then. I am, once again, a zombie. There are cuts on my thighs and upper arms. 4 days until Christmas and the only present I need is a casket. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.