Sickeningly Sweet - #toalltheboyscontest

An Open Letter

Hi. It's me again.

I keep thinking about you. Do you think about me anymore? Probably not, but that's okay. I don't blame you. It's been a long time since we talked. You probably don't remember my face, or my voice, or the taste of my lips, but that's okay. Cause I remember you.

I remember your saccharine smile and your stupid laugh and the way your messy hair fell across your face. It looked so stupid cause you cut it yourself. Do you remember that? I do. I remember a lot.

I remember you telling me about kissing pretty girls in pretty places and falling in love with anyone but me. I stayed up late at night wondering why I wasn't good enough for you and why you pretended I wasn't your type, but when you described your dream date it was always me.

Maybe you just didn't see it.

That's okay though, cause I remember. I remember laying in your bed, watching FRIENDS on TV through the static, our bodies barely touching, and the way you shook with laughter at everything but the punchline. It was only then that you suddenly didn't get the joke.

I remember holding your hand during the commercials and telling you how pretty you were, and how you were the loveliest girl in the galaxy. So cute you could make the sun melt. You would laugh at me. You didn't believe me. You didn't believe in a lot of things, did you?

I remember the sadness in your eyes when you pulled your lips away from mine and whispered, "I'm straight," and the way you lifted your hand away from my cheek, and your breath on my ear, and the knot in my throat.

The deliverance of that news hit me like a billion bulls.

I hated that. I hated you for telling me. I hated you for kissing girls you didn't love and for kissing boys at all. I hated you for letting me leave. I hated you for not stopping me. I hated you for ever even existing. And I hate myself for loving you.

Do you remember? I wish I didn't.