Dear You

Dear You,

              I'm writing to you as sort of a therapeutic way of getting my feelings about you onto paper and out of my system to get past this. We aren't friends anymore; I don't know if there is or will ever be hope for that. You broke my heart, you broke me, and this is me still trying to glue the pieces back together.

              Do you remember our late nights on the phone, talking about how we wish we were together and everything else interesting in the world? Of course you don't. You probably don't even remember my favorite color because that's how much you cared.

              You told me you loved me, lied about it, and I had said it back to you that night, thinking without my head that you'd meant it. You smiled; I couldn't see your cocky, beautiful smirk through the phone, but you did. You smiled because you knew you had me for yourself then, that I would always be there, stupid me. I didn't know it then, what you were, yet my friends told me I shouldn't believe you. I never listened to them; I believed with all my heart that you'd be different. Boy, was I wrong?

              I never want to give you the satisfaction of knowing I miss you. I don't miss you. I don't miss you. I don't miss you. I tell myself this every day, expecting myself to eventually believe it. Okay fine, I miss you. I miss us, but I don't want you. I don't need you, and that's the truth. Everything you did to hurt me, and what did I do to deserve it?

             I still have questions you never cared enough to answer for me, so I'll write them here. They need to go somewhere, and even if you rip this letter into a million pieces, like you did my heart, you'll know what I've been just dying to know.

            1. Was there someone else? Is that why you, out of nowhere, admitted that you'd been wanting to dump me for a "while now", even though you had been unshamely being with me?

            2. How could you sit there and blame everything on me, say that it wasn't "exciting" enough, our "relationship", if it even was one. Fuck you, for making me feel beautiful for a little while right before dropping me like I was nothing to you when you were everything to me.

            3. When you called it off, you said you still loved me but it had to end; do you remember that? You probably have forgotten by now, but I need you to know that it killed me. My question, a stupid as I sound, is did you mean it? Did you mean it at any point in our time together, loving me?

            All these questions to you, but the most important is the one to myself. Why did I put up with you? Everything you said to me, made me cry, hurt me, tore me down?

            It tears me apart, knowing that you could have a girl that prettier than me, smarter, more outgoing, nicer, less awkward, better, than I am and I hate to think you'd love her more than you ever loved me.

            I wonder what's wrong with me, what you saw in me that suddenly made you not want me anymore. You probably saw me the same way I saw, still see myself, which isn't very pleasant.

           Sometimes, in the hallway I catch you smiling at me and it confuses me terribly because you haven't even cared enough to send me a single text since we were over.

           Yes, you were an asshole. You were greedy, mean, a liar, a coniving little bastard, but I loved you, at a time when I thought I couldn't love. You had these little hidden quirks about you that you never showed to anyone else but me. You made me feel special. You made me feel beautiful.

          I shouldn't be thanking you; you broke my heart, but I will anyway. So, thank you for hurting me, making me cry, driving me to hate myself even more than I already did. Really, thank you for showing me what I really deserve, which is everything and anyone better than you. Finally, thank you for showing me what love is and then taking it away, because now I know what I need and how to fix my broken heart.

                                                                 From the Deepest Part of My Heart,

                                                                                      Carslyn