To the Guy Who Left Me Hanging
They say I should be over it by now. That it's been over a year and that should be enough time to slowly put a closure on something that has never really happened fully. Maybe they're right. Maybe I really should have fully recovered from the drama and trauma you have caused when you made your disappearing act and resurfaced a few months later, a new girl in your arms. But who are we to say when feelings are supposed to end? Like love, we also don't know when heartbreak stops.
It seems sad, now that I look back on those times when I was just so crazy about you. Crazy about the way you told me you liked me, but never really loved me. Crazy about how you thought so little of yourself, but I was so blinded by everything that I made stupid reasons in my mind to defend your actions. Crazy about the way you told me and lied to me that you've been too hurt before that you've shunned commitments and relationships altogether, but I thought I was the game-changer so I pushed through and pushed harder. Crazy how I fell for your clichés because everything sounded too good to be true. And I was right. Crazy about how you gave me enough to keep me on my toes, but not enough to keep me standing. Crazy. I was crazy. And honestly, you were crazier and even cruel to lead me on.
I will never know what went wrong, why we can't cross the other side of the fence, call it a day, and be together in the most formal sense of the word. I knew you were scared and so was I, but it wasn't as if we acted like we were just friends. We acted like a couple. We talked everywhere, as if we were running out of time. We held hands, held hands so tightly that I thought nothing and no one can break that bond anymore. We found warmth in each other's breath, embrace, touch, words. For a few months we were actually happy.
But those happy moments were short-lived. I didn't know if you got bored or you thought you were done with me already or you found someone new, whose feelings you can play with the way you played with mine, when you disappeared. You just stopped answering to my calls and my messages. You just tossed me aside like a badly used scratch paper for Math class, just a scratch person who happened to be there when you were in need of someone to listen to you or distract you from your issues in life.
And maybe I was right. Maybe you really found someone new to fool around with because a few months later, another girl was in your arms and another girl was commenting on all of your social media posts. Yes, I still haven't unfollowed you or unsubscribed to you because that's the only way I can "hold" you now. The difference? You and her were Facebook official, which means you were The Fault In Our Stars official and not 500 Days of Summer official. You were legit IRL.
I didn't know how to take in that news or to stop blaming myself or blaming you or blaming that girl. I didn't really know if I hated you or hated myself more because you of all people led me on and I was too dumb to fall for your trap. Most of all, I didn't know if I even had the right to get mad or feel anything at all.
Because when all has been said and done, what I had was nothing anyway. I had no claim, no rights. There was never a "we" or an "us," just you and me. We didn't need closure because we haven't even opened a door. We didn't need farewells because we didn't even say hello to something. And I don't have any choice but to let this all go, let you go even if I think I deserve some sort of closure or explanation no matter how pathetic that may be. And as I look at yet another update of the two of you on my feed, huddled together and smiling like there's no tomorrow to wake up to, while a part of me is thinking that I hope she loves you more than a million and more than a billion and more than I ever could, I am also thinking that maybe this online PDA of your current relationship is the exact closure that I need to finally get over this and get over you.
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