It's been months since you and I have stopped taking. And I think it's going to take years for us to talk again. I already lost you since the day you told me that you and my ex-boyfriend are dating. It's just too much. The betrayal was so unexpected that I felt as if I was dumped in an ice-cold lake. I was numbed. But I had to keep the pain for myself. For a few days I tried to keep a straight face because I thought I could handle it; seeing you two almost every day in the same campus, in the same classroom, but I can't. I had to keep asking myself because I didn't know how it happened, when it happened and why. But I guess I just know the two of you so much that eventually I had to keep myself from denying the fact that you, my most trusted secret-keeper, my confidant, my advisor, betrayed me.
You knew that I still loved him. You knew, even if I chose to be silent about it all these months since he and I broke up. You knew how many nights I cried myself to sleep because of him. You knew the agony I felt every time I see him in class. You hated him, no—loathed even, because of both of your clashing personalities. You even had a fight with him over me.
Now I watch wearily as you eat every single word you said against him and work your anger towards me. I know that my choice of not facing you angers and frustrates you and yes, I may have ratted a few airy tweets, Facebook posts, and snide comments directed to you, but who are you to tell me to stop? I was angry and devastated. You, of all people should know this. We went through the same denial-anger-bargaining-sadness-acceptance phase last year, remember?
You say that there's nothing wrong with the two of you going out together because we're already broken up. Yes, there's nothing wrong with that. But please stop expecting that we'd still be friends after that, because we will never be the same again. You say that I’m the bigger liar between the two of us but I say this: there’s a fine line between lies and dishonesty. When you asked me if I still loved him (before you told me that you two were an item), I chose not to answer your question, and there lies the difference. I chose not to face you not because I'm a coward, but because I know what will happen next if I do. And frankly, would that change anything?
After remembering the times we were together and what's happening now, all I ask myself is, do I even know you at all?
From The Candy Bulletin Community
