Ed Sheeran imagines

We dated but broke up : Tumblr

This wasnt written by me !

it's from Tumblr , It was written by iwritethingsaboutedsheeran         

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Lexi Sheeran xx

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He told me that I was an unemotional wreck; a shell of a person who’s void of all emotional attachments. Of course, those weren’t the exact words he used. But they are all I could pick up as he fired violent words towards me like a cannon aimed right at my self-esteem. Brutal, disrespectful words out of that pretty mouth of his. When his voice finally strained against the raw skin of his throat that was undoubtedly burning, he mentioned something along the lines of, “you don’t even cry during Dirty Dancing,” as though our entire relationship up until this point had been based on the lack of tears during a Patrick Swayze film. Nothing less, nothing more. He sat down on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands, while I stood against the opposite side of the room, my back flat against the wall. If I could have absorbed into the wood of the wall behind me, I would have disappeared before he even got started on this rampage.  My fists were at my sides, shaking. The love of my life screamed words that he’d never be able to take back, and at that point, I wasn’t even sure if he wanted to take them back. So I left him, with his head in his hands, and I slipped through the door.  I contemplated staying long enough to gather all of my belongings, only to decide that it wasn’t worth staying.  I could buy new things, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of the way he looked at me when he was screaming, like he’d been holding it in for far too long. I used to think his eyes were dark blue. I realize now it was all of the pent up anger and frustration that turned them that color.

But he was right. I don’t cry during Dirty Dancing. I can’t get over the fact that Patrick Swayze’s dance moves were utter shit aside from the lift, and that a full grown adult let the majority of people she knew call her baby. It made her look weak and naïve and without any kind of control over her own life. I can’t cry over that. Maybe it’s because I’m literal and scientific and that trumps hopeless romanticism, or maybe it’s because I just happen to know so many other people who have bigger hearts than I can even imagine.  But I don’t find myself crying during that movie. I never have, I never will.

But Ed Sheeran wrecked me that day, over a year ago, and the fact that he left me in tears felt so unnatural. Almost as though I couldn’t even fathom the fact that there were tears spilling from my eyes down my cheeks. I think it was just the fact that I hadn’t realized someone I loved could actually express such awful things towards me.  It made me feel human, able to be hurt.

Today I see Ed Sheeran at a bar. He’s got his hands in his pockets and he’s leaning against the bar, and the only reason I even noticed him was because I saw his reflection against the metal frame of a jukebox machine that I was surprised even still worked. There’s nothing quite like picking a song to listen to in a crowded room full of strangers. He looked older, even though it’s only been a year. It’s not the kind of older that changes him into a distinguished 23 year old or anything, just a few more tattoos, a few more wrinkles that are no doubt the result of laughing and smiling so much. Our eyes meet for a second, and I’m the first to look away. A part of me wants him to not recognize me, and the other part wonders if I look the same.

I was taught to be the bigger person, to take the high road. My mother would tell me, even if what was said brought tears to my eyes and left me on my hands and knees scrounging for my self-esteem and dignity, don’t let them get the best of me. She would remind me that looking back, I should want to be known for holding my head high than for throwing dirt in the faces of those who weren’t worth my time. The part of me that wants to be loud, and anger, and full of rage, calling Ed out on his bullshit is not the kind of person I am. Did he hurt me? of course. Did I feel like shit for a long time after the initial blow? Definitely. Does it matter now? Not the fight, and definitely not the breakup. But the relationship? Yeah, that will always matter. Ed will always matter. Oh, that was love. I’ve only known it a few times, but my god, what I’d do to know that kind of love for the rest of my life.

“It’s been awhile, yeah?” he comes up behind me so that when I eventually turn away from the jukebox we’re face to face, only a foot or so between us. He has one of those awkward smiles on his face like he doesn’t know if he should be talking to me and he has no idea how I’m going to react.

“Ed, hi” I kind of chuckle, surprised that he’s even talking to me. He knows he did something wrong. Shit, the whole town knows he did something wrong. Being the bigger person doesn’t mean I have to forget that. It doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t feel the need to apologize.

“ I know you’re here with some friends, but I was hoping to steal you away for a second to talk, if that’s okay” he rocks back on his heels, raising his shoulders.

“Sure” I nod. He looks relieved when I give him the opportunity to have a conversation with me, and I follow him outside the back of the bar. I lean against the wall and he takes a stance in front of me.

“I know it’s only been a year but it feels like it’s been so long” he begins, looking up and down at me

“A year since you called me a frigid bitch” I tell him, laughing “you always did have a way with words, Ed.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry” He rubs a hand over his face, “I shouldn’t have ever called you that or said any of those things. I was immature”

“I’m not interested in digging up old drama, Ed” I tell him flatly,  “Not that I don’t appreciate the apology, because I do, and you’re right, you shouldn’t have, but milling over this with you isn’t going to do us any good.”

“I just want you to know I’m not happy with how I left things or how I treated you.” He replies, “I was an asshole.”

“Ed, I was in love with you” I tell him, “The good kind of love, the kind of love that I hope I find again because it made me feel like even if we’re all going to die and even if this earth is doomed there is something that makes it all worthwhile.”

“When did you figure everything out? When did you become this mature?” he smiles,

“I got my heart broken” I admit, “my first real heartbreak and it made me realize that I wasn’t a machine, that I had feelings and that I wasn’t invincible”

“I wish I wouldn’t have ruined things with you” he tells me, “I wish I wouldn’t have gotten so frustrated”

“Oh Ed,” I put my hands on his shoulders, “look what you made out of the mess that we made? Look at the songs, the albums, the success”

“I probably can’t deny that some of those are about you” he shakes his head and shrugs.

“nah” I laugh, “not even if you tried.”

“Thanks for talking to me” he says, “I know I must be the last person you want to talk to, so I appreciate it.”

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So that's the end !

requests are open so Yh i will start writting my own stuff.

~ Lexi sheeran