I was fine the first time you left, and I’ll be okay this time, too.
I’m fine.
OK, so, the first time stung. Was I just a power trip for you? You wanted to yo-yo me around to see how much you could control me, manipulate my emotions? Well, congratulations, it worked. It killed me to see you walk away.
But I’m fine.
When you came crawling back to me, spouting out the lies that I had fallen for so many times, I just let you back in. My friends warned me, and they warned you, too. Maybe they got through to you, at least for a while, because you were amazing. I loved you. I loved the way you made me feel special, I loved the way you called me for no reason, just to say you loved me. I loved loving you.
I was fine the second time you left, and I’ll be okay this time, too.
I’m fine.
The second time was more of a mutual split. Summer had pulled us apart. Freedom had more than one meaning, and you wanted more of it. We were going to different schools in the fall, anyways. I had applied to a magnet school, and you were going to your school for the band program. I wanted a better future, you wanted your music. You wanted to be able to do whatever you wanted at that high school without a ball and a chain, which, apparently, I was.
But I’m fine.
I was able to keep myself busy for the rest of the summer, distracting myself from the thought of you with activities and a full schedule. My friends were great. But when school dragged back into session in the fall, boring lectures and seven-hour days gave me an excuse to drift back to thinking of you, again. I shouldn’t have. It was dangerous. But in a year’s time, you had managed to weave a web so tightly around me that I couldn’t even breathe without you.
I was fine when you decided to ask one of my best friends out, and I was fine when she said yes, too.
I’m fine.
But can we stop the lies for a moment? There’s something I’d like to say.
I’m NOT fine.
I gave you everything I had, and you gave it away like it meant nothing to you. The girl that’s in your arms right now, the girl wearing your necklace around her neck and convincing you that everything’s fine? That used to be me. It’s not anymore, now, is it? You broke my heart, and you kept some of the pieces. I’ll never get those back. I’ll never get back the love I gave to you, or the time I spent with you, or the tears I cried for you. You will have those, and a part of me, forever. I just wish that you cared about me enough, I wish that I meant enough to you to convince you to stay. Even when you had the nerve to call me in the middle of the night, saying how sorry you were and that you wanted to see me, even when you continue to play mind games and mess with my head, even when you’re still kissing her and loving her, there’s a part of me that wants you back. It’s the same part that I’ll never get back, either.
I’m not fine.
But it's too late.
