Please don’t forget her, that girl who wrote you the letter. She wasn’t bitter, she was naïve. She let her guard down believing you were different. People told her you were, people told her to take the chance and though she doubted herself she let herself fall.
Suddenly she found herself running too quick, because your pace was too confusing. You walked fast then you run slow. How was she to know how to keep up with you?
She knew what she was getting into; she told herself that it would end soon. What she didn’t expect was how you ended it.
You let it all go, left so easily. She thought she could never forgive you. She thought she could easily forget the conversations because she deleted them. You saw how bitter she was, you saw it on her social media instead of her eyes. You hate that you’re the reason; well she has no other way to express the pain.
Writing it out is better than scrolling through your timeline, waiting for your text and crying over you because she thought you genuinely cared.
You can’t look her in the eye; you can’t even pass by her friends. Truth is she’s broken but mending, it sounds dramatic but how else can you word it?
She’s trying to be good to you because she hates what I’ve become when you left her broken. I am the aftermath while she’s too young to care and confused to handle it the way she did. She wants to apologize but for what reason?
Remember that you took her by surprise twice, first was when you came into her life, she wasn’t looking for you. Second was when you took every word you said and threw it in the trash while she was looking for you.
You blindsided the girl who thought maybe for once she didn’t have to be a bitch to get the boy to stay. You broke the girl who knew better than to fall further than she did with you. You inspired her heartache; she’s too damaged to find any other muse to fill her writings.
Before you, there were others. There was the boy December once knew; she was the reason for his pain she cannot deny that.
There was the boy in the skinny jeans who never knew of her intentions; she knew the reason why because she never started the conversations.
There was the boy that pulled down her pride, too bad she still had her ego by her side.
There was the boy who tried, but she knew better than to fall pity than to fall whole heartedly.
There was the boy from that summer, or was it another? She forgot because she didn’t want to know their names. If she did she’d be attached, she preferred 5 second summer flings.
Then lastly there was the boy with the blue guitar and the vinyl records. He took her heart without knowing, she took a year trying not to make him the next mistake. She pinned to hope, she didn’t want to lose him.
Then you, the boy who broke the girl’s sarcasm, the boy who she took a chance for, the boy who stared at her as if he never wanted to look away and the boy who finally walked away with no valid reason.
She’s begging for some sort of closure.
I hope you miss that girl; I hope she’s still here to take another shot. Well guess what? I’m not.