Mar 1, 2017

Many like to say that you don't realize how good you have it until something goes wrong or something goes missing, but that doesn't apply when the person that you loved ends up leaving you. The person literally hanging you out to dry, almost as if you're nothing more than some wet laundry than an actual person. It doesn't matter if it's been a couple of hours or even years, the feeling sticks, no matter how much you don't want it to. Because as much as two years may have passed since my third year of junior high, the feelings haven't gone away.

Two years have passed since I have seen him smile, have smelled his hair, and have gotten to hold his hand, calloused fingers rough yet sturdy against mine, even if my hand had always been a bit bigger and stronger than his. It's been two years of missing him, of thinking about him, and even though he's probably long gone by now, some irrational part of me hopes that I'll still be able to do all of the things I remember with him again. Even if that seems impossible and I'm just fooling myself for what feels like the millionth time now. Because no matter what I do, no matter what I try, my mind constantly strays to him, even if I don't want it to.

He promised me and then ruined me and yet my heart - it still beats for him, despite knowing nothing of where he's gone or if he's ever coming back.  Or if he had truly loved me, even if the idea of love in junior high amounts to nothing but stupidity and naiveté. Or maybe I was just too dumb to see things the correct way - the way that he saw things.

I don't know what the truth actually is, but I can't help but hate him. 

I detest him.

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