23/10/15
At 13, you held me, outside the skate rink, freezing cold, no jackets, black clothes, you in shorts and ripped tights, black hair, me in skinny jeans belts and chains, dirty blonde hair, ragged from where i cut it myself (my mum told me i looked like i was from the insane asylum, i felt like it). i told you i didn’t want to see my 16th birthday. you told me i would be okay. he kissed us both. we went home.
31/10/15
you kissed me. i kissed you back. somewhere along the line i told you i loved you.
…
i was too scared of how fragile you were you never told me off i was scared of you resenting me for going to far because i never knew when to stop you never told me i could never tell whether your looks meant yes or no i promise i never meant any harm. you took it as me not being interested. we moved on.
07/10/16
nearly a year on. we still say 23/10/15 to each other. but you stole the boy i liked. i let you. you were always better than me anyway. i sound bitter. i was. but something else outweighed it. just letting you have whatever you wanted if there’s a name for that.
around november time
i fell in love with someone who wasn’t you. but it’s okay i love you again because both our boys cheated.
april 2017
you say you hate me for telling you to get over him. i did it because i love you. we kissed at a party around this time. you were my universe in that room. but i was just a stepping stone to you.
…
you say you hate me for getting in between you and a boy. guess why.
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you say you hate me for being rude about your ocd and paranoia. guess why. this ones harder. you write my name everyday so you don’t lose me. what if i want you to lose me because it hurts too much to be around you when you don’t even see me.
…
you say you hate me for being so horrible to you. and also pushing you away. that’s because it’s easier than telling you how i feel. because i’m still terrified of you. yet as soon as you needed someone i always tried to be there. even if i’m no good at it. i’m all barbed wire and smashed glass. but i buries all the sharp edges into my own skin just so i could hold you and tell you it would be okay. because nothing could make up for what you did that night 23/10/15
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except i don’t need to make up for that night anymore
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August 24th came and went. my 16th. you did not wish me happy birthday. you did not say you were proud of me for making it. the only reason i made it was because i had you and a few others by my side.
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turns out you weren’t by my side. you hated me when i asked.
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i hate myself too.