One shots - Phan

Extract one.

May 30th 2017 - Extract one.
To the boy who broke my heart.

I don't think you realised you did it - nor do I think you know to this day. You were there for a year, and then after it was on and off. You left me without a trace, and I'm not quite sure what happened. You broke my heart in a way no one has before. It was gradual, and at first I didn't realise it. After two head you just forget, and as our love was only over the Internet, and was really only temporary, I didn't believe the heart break.

It's been a long time, three years or so, I lose track of the time. You spoke to me again two years ago, after a while of not talking. I didn't even think you knew I existed, but you popped up anyway. I'm not quite sure why, but not long after that you blocked me on social media, after prom. I didn't notice, until a few months passed and your face wasn't coming up on my Instagram feed.

I think it was heart break because you brought me into this art. You taught me how to write, you taught me how to have aspirations and dreams and follow the things I wanted to follow. You told me to dance, even though my parents thought it as stupid. You helped me defy all rules about gender and who I was allowed to be with. You helped me defy the age gap. Four years isn't that long - is it?

But it must've been. We were together when I was 13. You were my first love. When we were together it was perfect, because I think you were still trapped in your teenage body, and that was okay. But as the year went on, one of us must have grown up. Or both. When you came back to me two years ago, I don't think you realised how much I'd changed. I was 16 back then, and a lot had happened since you left. You never asked, but that's okay - I didn't expect you to.

You stopped writing, and eventually I did too. You stopped following your favourite YouTubers, but I tried to stay attached. I grew apart from them, but it was still something I looked for.

You unfriended me on Facebook, and all my family, so I couldn't see what you were up to. That's okay, but I just wanted to know why. I don't even remember why we broke it off. Was it mutual? I can't remember anymore. I made a separate account on Instagram, and I remembered your name, but you'd made a completely new profile. Your old one still had my name in the bio, but it wasn't in use anymore. I checked your friends accounts, and I found your new account. You seem to have stayed in your child mind, even though you're now 22. I guess we wouldn't be suited now anyway, as I've grown a lot since 13. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

The heart break was only gradual because I started to realise it when I got into a new relationship. It is nothing like we were, and I don't miss it, but I miss you. I miss talking to you - you were sensitive and he isn't. He is nothing like you but maybe that's a good thing - or is it, I can't tell.

The heart break doesn't hurt, it just aches. My 18th birthday is in three weeks, and I'm hoping for a message from you. I know I won't get one, but it would be nice. You said you can't wait for me to be an adult, but you won't be here when I turn one. I never forget your birthday, and I never feel alright on Valentine's Day. That's when you asked me out - do you remember? At prom you said you would be there, and all I got was a comment on my Instagram picture saying I looked handsome. You weren't there.

We planned a lot together, and maybe I don't want any of it anymore, but my heart aches when I look at photos of you. You haven't changed. You've lost a little weight, but you haven't changed - I can tell. I have though. I've changed a lot - I'm not the person I used to be. I'm much more stable, and I'm not sad as much as I used to be. My friends are amazing.

I'm just sad you're not part of my friends.

To the boy who broke my heart;

I don't love you anymore

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Weird yes hello.
So what a like 2 year break? Yeah sorry hi how are you.
Trying to write again. So here's what's in my head. I plan on doing this more where I spit words out into paper and post it. I'm trying not to think as much as I used to about the quality of my writing.

Peace,
Chloe