In the beginning it was nice. Actually, that's a lie. It was amazing.
I had never met such a person that I could trust so heavily. That was so in sync with me. That I was so in sync with. He was a beautiful person. He made me feel wanted. He made me feel loved. And most of all, he made me feel pretty.
I felt more open with him than I had ever been with someone. I told him everything. We could talk for hours about specific things. Then we could talk for hours about nothing at all. While it felt like time flew incredibly fast, it also felt as though we had been together for years.
We knew an amazing amount of things about each other. We were both people watchers. We could learn things from each other from pure observation.
We- I- cried, we laughed, we hurt, we loved, we cuddled, we smiled and we enjoyed. I had never been so happy.
That last week, I had been under a lot of stress. I needed his support, I needed his love. But we hadn't had time to see each other.
We were texting. I remember the conversation. I had been talking to him about how we have both been really busy. We had an argument. I felt like he needed to be there for me at this time. He didn't notice that he had been MIA. But I remember being glad to tell him about my feelings so we could work on it.
Then, all of the sudden, it was over.
"We need a break"
But, I, a strong believer in the idea that you either want to be with someone or you don't, said that I don't believe in that. I had been hoping that this was a dream. That this was my imagination. That this was a joke. That it was just auto correct messing itself up again. Something other than what it was.
And I had also been secretly hoping that when I said that we were either together or not, he'd change his mind; decide that it's not worth it, that I mean too much to him to loose.
But, that of course was not the case.
It was fast. Over before I could even blink. Before I could even think.
I started hyperventilating. A panic attack. The rest of the night followed much like the instructions on a shampoo bottle: rinse and repeat.
I stayed home the next day.
I almost expected him to run to me, proclaiming his love for me, and begging for my forgiveness for his rash and hastily chosen ill minded decision. But life is not a movie.
My head was whirling, and not in a good way. I couldn't figure it out. Why did he do it? Why so suddenly? Why over text? Why? Why? WHY?
We were happy. We were perfect.
He never left me with an explanation. He dropped out of my life, my friend's lives, and it seemed almost as if he dropped off of the face of the earth.
He disappeared, along with our relationship.
I figured, since he was the one that broke up with me, he'll eventually take the responsibility to come and talk to me to my face and explain why he did it.
But he didn't.
And I waited some more.
But it never happened.
I searched for him in the hallways of the school, places I'd normally see him. I didn't.
Thus starting my obsession.
I would around look for him wherever I went.
I would not go an hour without thinking of him.
I would wonder: Am I too ugly? Am I gaining weight? Did he lie when he said my acne wasn't bad at all and that he thought I was beautiful regardless? Did he finally realize that I am an ugly piece of shit and left? Am I an ugly piece of shit? Is it because my hair is frizzy? My acne? The stubble I get on my legs the day after shaving? My small boobs? The fact that I have panic attacks? The fact that I stress and obsess over everything I do? Did he finally realize that I am not worth his time?
And with input of others, I would also start to wonder: Did he decide he loved someone else? Did he sleep with someone? Did he cheat? Is he now off with her, smiling and standing with his arms around her, like he used to do with me? Is she pretty? Is she everything that I am not?
Why can't I be good enough?
It got to the point where I came to the realization that he was not going to be responsible and talk to me about what happened. So I had to set that up myself.
I texted him. I told him to meet me somewhere after school to talk. He down right refused to talk to me in person. He had never been so harsh or brutal toward me ever before. Then he suddenly said that he had plans. That he even had to leave school early to deal with them.
But then I saw him after school that day, strolling through the courtyard with one of his buddies. I started hyperventilating and crying and barely managed to hold back the panic attack that was coming. My friends tried to console me. It didn't work.
I felt worthless. I felt like the dirt that attaches itself to the gum on your shoe.
Apparently, it took many people and many confrontations until he finally agreed to talk to me.
What really hurt was that he was acting like it didn't matter and also said "It's not like this conversation will last very long anyway."
Which felt like a twist of the knife he stabbed in my heart.
But he was right. It didn't.
He made up an excuse. It wasn't even a clever one. He could of at least put more thought in it.
He said, "I just wasn't happy anymore," which was defiantly a big, steaming pile of a bull's waste. I saw the smiles. I heard the laughs. I felt the happiness radiate off of him and engulf me.
So, to recap:
He left me, over a text message.
He avoided me for weeks on end.
He refused to give me even the smallest bit of closure.
And he lied about why he broke up with me.
If you were expecting some kind of a closing or some sort of happy ending to this story, you're sadly mistaken. Life will beat you over the head and knock you off your feet. It will leave you bleeding to die. And there will be no repercussions for the ones who have wronged you. There will be nothing coming back to bite people in the butt. There is no looking back wistfully. There is no silver lining. In the end, there is nothing; nothing except you.