Do you remember when we first said I love you, and decided to give us a try. It was the middle of the night and I said I’d never give up on you. I told you that I don’t date just to date and that if we were going to do this I wasn’t going to go anywhere. You said you felt the same and you promised not to abandon me. If you meant it then I can’t tell anymore. You promised we’d talk things through and that you chose me. And I finally felt like I was safe. That no matter what happens, you would be there for me and I could be there for you too. And as time went on my promise stayed, and no matter how hard things got, no matter how frustrated or upset you made me I choose you again and again. I loved you and I chose to keep that love, determined for you to be my forever. But you didn’t do the same for me. When you asked I would come in the dead of night to make sure you were okay, I stayed with you for midterms and finals to make sure you would be your very best. I did everything I physically could to lift you up and tell you that you were loved. I told you time and time again that my love meant love, that there were no conditions to it. To me you were worthy. You went back on your word. When I got upset you hid, when I got angry or frustrated you refused to speak, and when I said I loved you, you said no. You had problems, and past hurts. And so I said it was okay, because I understand what it’s like to feel unloveable, what it feels like for any positive remark about you to feel like a lie. I thought you’d come around. But time went on and instead of meeting me halfway and working through, you just kept making me come farther and farther for you. And I did. I promised I wouldn’t give up and I meant it. Every nightmare, every break down, every single suicidal thought. I stayed, and I held you close and tried to reassure you that it didn’t matter to me that you couldn’t do all that I could. Because to me it didn’t, you had trauma and for a while you were healing and that’s all I wanted from you. I remember holding you and looking forward to a day when you and I were past all this pain and hurt, and you could smile with stars in your eyes in the light of day. I knew one day you could get there, and I wanted to be there with you. So I promised myself to get better too. I worked harder in school, I worked on my tone and standing up for myself. All the while believing that you would be better someday and I could stand there with you as someone you could be as proud to call yours as I was to call you mine.
You were everything to me and I wanted so desperately to show you that. I told you every day and wrote countless pieces because I felt such love and devotion towards you. I could look into your brown eyes and see all the light and good in the world. In your arms I was safe and there was someone who cared if I lived or died beyond just my friends. Someone who wanted to share this world with me. Someone I felt lucky to share the world with. As the months went by that person started fading, and your mind became more and more warped in perception. I said I love you. You told me no. I told you things were okay and that I liked cooking for you. You said no. No. No. No. Everywhere I looked it was there. I wasn’t allowed to love you and want you, and find comfort in you anymore. I wasn’t allowed to want the best for you or voice my concerns. Every conversation became one sided. With me trying to understand and compromise, and reassure only to be met with an instance that I hated you. And it got frustrating, and in my desperation to know I became pushy and loud and it set you off more, and sent you into silence. That silence made me feel like dying. In the process of trying to console the most precious person in my world I made things worse, and the harder I tried to fix it the worse it became. I felt like a monster. You were convinced I hated you, or that I’d end up hating you and every time I tried to make it clear that wasn’t what was going to happen I said something or did something out of frustration that reinforced the idea that I did. And there was no one I could ask for advice no one I could turn to because they all saw the danger you held clearly. The danger I was in. They saw the manipulation and the unwillingness to take criticism and learn from it. They saw the tole it was taking. On some levels I saw it too, but I ignored it. I wanted my boyfriend, I wanted a future with you, I wanted to watch the sunset in your arms. I wanted to make a family. You wanted my devotion and obedience. And one night my worrying and nagging, and your feeling of loss of control made you snap. You lashed out, and went on and on about how I didn’t care about you. That all I cared about was fixing things, and your health. That this was all about me and that I didn’t love you. And in response I lost my cool too. You left and I remember curling on my bed clutching your hoodie to me and sobbing so hard I could breathe. My body was made of ice and my spine felt like it was locked in place. I was worried sick, because I knew that you wanted to die, and that you were exhausted. I knew it was the end, I was going to lose you and it was all my fault. When you came back, I tried to stay calm and work it out but I couldn’t keep track of my tone, first you said the calm made it seem like I didn’t care, and then when my emotions started breaking through you said that I was making it worse as I tried to give my side and reassure you. You said it was over. That you were done. That if you really mattered to me I should’ve tried harder, and that I ruined your life. Your dad picked up your things the next day and I shut down. Later on you texted me and I told you hoping that you would understand why I didn’t think we should go on that trip. You called me insensitive, that this hurt you more, that this was the only shot you had at closure and I was taking it away from you. I told you that I still cared about you and that maybe one day we could be friends. I still wasn’t ready to give up on you and if you’d said yes I would’ve been honored to have you as a friend after I’d had some time to heal.
Apparently that wasn’t what you wanted. You sent me a long text, telling me that you were ruined, that I had destroyed you and your life, and that you had nothing left to live for. I was still so hurt that I couldn’t look at your name so I deleted it and didn’t respond. I needed time, and I’d hope you’d be willing to give me that and give yourself time to. Part of me knew you were gone from the moment you sent me that text. The next morning that part of me got proven right. Your parents called mine, and I woke up to them in my room with something between apology and sadness on their faces. They said they were sorry, and I knew but I asked hoping maybe you weren’t quite gone. That maybe you’d attempted and failed. But your plan like most of them before was a success. They said there’d been an accident, that you’d lost control and crashed into a tree. And my mother sobbed and held me tight saying sorry over and over again for a loss that she couldn’t have prevented thinking that if she had let you stay and rest you would’ve still been there. She made me promise her I’d be safe. And all I can remember feeling was a numbness. She was hurting and I didn’t have the heart to make her watch her child scream and I couldn’t do it. My fingers were cold and my body was hollow. I slept a lot that day and I dreamt you were still alive and that you wanted to make up and be friends. I woke up all alone and wishing that you were there to hold me.
It’s been a month since that day, and I still don’t know what I should be. You were a toxic person, with manipulative tendencies and to an extent you used me without ever trying to be better. I feel betrayed, and angry. I’ve called you a coward. Because when your guilt didn’t work and I finally stood up for my wellbeing you blamed me for ruining your life then killed yourself. You abandoned me and any responsibility you have for you actions. You died thinking I hated you, that I never loved you and that I didn’t give a damn. You left me alone, with a million questions I will never get the answer to, seeking closure I can never have. You left ignoring the way you made me feel, denying that my hurt was as valid as yours and because of that I have trouble working through it. I’m angry at you. You used me and my kindness, promising you would get better and never making the effort to change your actions the way you asked me to change mine. And when I pointed it out you guilted me by saying you were hurt. You manipulated my thoughts, and now I find myself blaming myself more than ever for not being able to help you, making me feel like because of my issues with expression, and adhd that I can never be loved. You left me feeling as if I am the most unattractive creature in the world and that I am unworthy of the love of others. You’ve left me more broken than I have ever been, and more hurt and angry than ever and because of you I feel like I am not allowed to feel that anger or sadness towards you. But I am and I know that, but every single day it still holds me back, because I’m scared that if I express any negative feelings for too long my friends will get sick of me. Just the same way you did.
The worst part is that in spite of all the scars and hurts and pains you’ve left me to deal with on my own, I still love you and miss so much about you. I miss the way you’d pause and smile when you saw something you loved. I miss the softness in your eyes when I was getting sleepy before you in bed. I miss the way you’d just hold me and play with my hair. I miss being in your arms and feeling like I was worth something. I miss your laugh, and your smile. I miss how warm you were, and I miss making fun of Ross and watching you confidently talking and laughing with your friends and eating breakfast with you in the mornings. I miss you so much and love you still, even though you left me here and tore me down and I hate it. I miss you and wish I could’ve seen you get better. But I’ll never get that chance. I’ll never get to put this behind me completely. I’ll never be able to fully trust that I’m not being selfish, or that anyone really finds me pretty. I may heal and grow but parts of that will cling to me forever and I’ll never be able to get an apology from you. Instead I’m stuck feeling like I should’ve tried harder because of someone who never really wanted to try at all.
