Dear [insert his name here],

It's been well over two years. Two long, depressing years since I looked in your direction, heard your name whispered past our friends' lips, or even thought about you. I've forgotten, or I like to pretend I have, everything that happened, transpired between us. But, I’ll admit that I never forgot, never gave up, and never wanted to be reminded again of what happened, of what was said. And sometimes, your name flutters from the deep recess of my mind and echoes until I have to stuff the pillows in between my ears and cry myself back to sleep.
But in the past couple of years, I’ve wanted to say, to tell you a few things. Let me take a deep breath, clear my mind and look you in the eyes in my mind. I’ll never breathe this aloud to you, never ever show you the letter I’ve spent these last two years writing. You know I’m stubborn, this’ll reflect that damned talent.

Damn you, I never stopped caring for you. Not even when we stood in front of the bathrooms at the dance and you accused me of cheating. Not even when you wrote that damned IM over Yahoo and said things were over. I’ll admit, I was cruel and cold hearted; you wrecked havoc on my world you bastard. Did you ever stop and take that damned step back to look at the whole picture. You never really let me explain, let me say what I was doing, what the girls and I were doing. I realize that night was something else; watching how you treated me, followed me, and how you acted. The guys saw your true side, so did I. I hated the weeks that followed. I hated hearing your name, being reminded and watching our friends take sides. Was I alone? You tried your hardest to turn them against me, saying it was all my fault. It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t yours, but both of ours. We rushed, dove headfirst into shallow waters and when we found we didn’t like what we saw, we turned on each other.

Want to know what really hurt the worst? I could stand the friends that chose your side, I could stand hearing your name even if it broke my wounds. What really hurt was reading your internet journals, reading on what was on public display. I understood why you did it.. Yes, I’m a cold hearted bitch, I knew that. Hell, I’ve proven that a many times now. But reading how I was the one who caused all your pain, all your misery. Life ain’t sugarcoated no more hon, you gotta move on and learn things ‘bout yourself you never thought possible. I did, the second I read it, my heart shattered finally and I realized that sometimes it was better to the better person and hold my head high regardless of things.

The months following were so dark, so dark and deadly that I’m surprised I survived it like I did. I cried, I screamed, I bled for you. Just because I knew nothing I could say would make things right. But I knew it wouldn’t have made a difference, maybe it would’ve mended a couple pieces together but that’s it. I withdrew from everything, watched as the world slid by and I wonder today if you knew what was happening.

Today, I spoke to you in civil, polite tones. Something I haven’t done since back then. It was the first time I could stand before you, smile happily and not want to raise my hand and bitch slap you twice. I really can say I missed hearing your sarcastic humor, your political views about today and even smiling once or twice on your comments about the snowy weather, mentioning that it suited me and yet, it didn’t. I don’t think, I don’t dwell on what could’ve been, what might’ve been, or anything like that anymore. I have forgiven you, so, so long ago and I don't care to dwell on the past any longer.

“Where did your heart go?”

I honest don’t know, but if you ever find this letter, it’ll be nothing more, than a pile of smoking ashes that won’t betray my trust. Have you forgiven as well?