About my life, I guess

And I lost you

It was around this time last year that I held her in my arms for the last time. It was staged, it was for a picture our teacher took, it was also the last time I've seen her. We both fake smiles in these pictures. Because the tension was so high between us for about three months, because I was so bitter I managed to turn our whole class against her, because she was so heartbroken and devastated she started her self-destructive behaviors again, because we both couldn't even bear looking each other in the eyes.
On that day, the thought of never having to see her again was relieving to me. I thought I could just forget the pain, the devastation, the constant anxiety I'd endured over that past year. And I had already locked away all of those other moments. Laying on the cold bedroom floor together, holding hands, looking into those big, beautiful blue eyes, both of us just smiling happily. When we stood at the train station together, in the middle of the night, when she broke down in tears and told me she loved me for the first time, and I just stood there and held her and was so overwhelmed because this wonderful person felt the same way for me that I felt for her. When she asked my best friend for permission to ask me out. The way we talked and laughed for hours. Cuddling while watching movies. Evenings spent just sitting by the lake and talking.
I know it's my fault that I lost her. I just couldn't handle her. Maybe if I was more mature and in a better mental state myself at that time, I could've helped her instead of blaming her for the way she treated me, the way she guilt tripped me into staying by her side, the way she completely lost it whenever she felt I was getting distant and intentionally hurt me over little things that triggered her separation anxiety, the way she tried to separate me from other people. Because I can understand how she must have felt. Of course it doesn't justify her actions, but if I wasn't that self-centered and had tried to see the reasons for her actions, I might've been able to handle it better, get us to have a functioning relationship.

In all honesty, I miss her now. The person I keep describing as a manipulative bitch was a broken girl that never learned how to control herself. And I wish I could've helped her. Hoping she's doing better now. Hoping she'll find someone who can help her and doesn't give up on her. And I'm so very sorry that I'm not that person.

But in the end, she left me with the fear of being or becoming exactly like her. With the fear of ruining everyone that gets too close to me.

For Z

Listening to: Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie