“She’s different now.” he said. “I was too much of an asshole to see how beautiful she really was. Her heart was so beautiful, she cared so much about me, and I never understood why. I never treated her the way she deserved to be treated, and she deserved the world. She was a poet, she really spoke to my soul. Everything she wrote was hand crafted for me, to make me happy. My happiness was always above her own. All she ever did was write to try and cheer me up, but I always put her last.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because her love scared me. It was so intense, with her I really could have been happy. I always let everyone else’s opinions of her get in my head, because she was weird, man. Nobody really liked her. She never fit in, she didn’t have a lot of friends, and she wasn’t popular. She wasn’t ‘on my level’ is what people would say, so I never wanted to let people know my feelings for her publicly. I had feeling, I did, but part of me didn’t want to. She treated me so good, and she made me smile, I never really did that. Whenever she saw me, she smiled so brightly, but at the same time you could see the pain in her eyes when I didn’t acknowledge her. I was always a jerk to her, I was put on such a high pedestal as to think she didn’t deserve me. I can’t really ever remember her saying anything to me that was negative. Maybe once or twice, but all she ever did was build me up and defend me to others who tried to tear me down. And my thanks? All I ever did was tear her down. Why did I do that? I tossed away gold because of the opinions of bronze. Her one friend use to tell me how much she cried over me, how much I completely destroyed her, but also how she never knew how to hate me even after every shitty thing I did. Funny thing is, I fooled around with her best friend afterwards. God, it is such a shame. She wasted so many years, and so many tears on somebody like me. She always wanted to do everything in her power to make sure I was happy, even after I did everything in my power to break her down.”
