the anger was mainly just self-perpetuated now. i could have forgiven him by now, or at least gotten over what he'd done but to be honest, i didn't want to. he broke a promise that he didn't have to make when he knew just how much i needed him. i didn't want to forget how he made me feel the whole way through. he wrote me like a book, almost: the introduction was at a pace i'd never trod at, the climax was his body on mine, and just when i thought it would never change, he slowly, unnoticeably ended our story.
at first, i didn't mind. he had stuff going on for him at the moment, i could wait. but it got worse, and i started losing it. bit by bit. i felt a cold, impertinent load right on top of my heart that blocked out every good feeling i've even felt. no one knew. no one knows till this day. they knew he was a sweetheart. they knew how much we loved each other, but they never knew it stopped. they wouldn't have believed it anyways.
i loved him so bad. he didn't get that. i didn't either to be honest. i let the feeling accumulate. i convinced myself that i needed to love someone and that i loved him. i did. do i still love him now? i honestly don't know. i love being happy, and i love having someone around who can tolerate my bullshit every once in a while. he gave me all of that. but there were side effects.
i saw him a couple times after that. he was there at the graduation
