He repeatedly told me he loved me; stabbing my heart with each lie.
I never thought I'd be sitting here, venting out on my keyboard (which I AM sorry about, sorry keyboard) but here I sit, nonetheless, sad and lonely due to my own selfishness and self pity, which I am drowning in.
When we met, I never thought I'd like him. Actually no, that's a lie, I hadn't ever really thought about it, that's what happened. He was, in fact, 'heart-broken' over another girl. Wow. This is hard to type, now that I think about it. Bringing back all those memories of the early stages of our friendship. Oh, how I'd give anything to get that back, go back in time and rewrite my life. But again, I'm sitting here. Can't worry about what's been and gone.
Let me start over; we were friends. Not close or anything of the sort, just mere classmates. (Yes, I am in school, but do not judge me for that. I know love. I really do) He had been dating a girl who 'broke his heart'. I'm guessing he told her he loved her too. Shocker. My one and only purpose in actually talking to him was to make him happy again. He, unknowingly, bothered me with his depression. As if it could spread. I wanted to help. I had no intentions whatsoever for him to fall for me in doing so. Ironic really. I was trying to help him heal his broken heart only for me to eventually crush it again.
So okay, blah blah, we become closer and closer as friends. I had very quickly developed a little crush on him and apparently he did too. He asked me out on a date once.. and I turned him down. I didn't want to be barbaric and simply go out with him just based off instinct. And of course now I realize I should have.
Months pass; my crush grows.
Months pass; so does his.
But he had given up, obviously for he never asked again, and he had a new girl by his side. Lucky girl she was.
During this time, we talked more often, and become extremely close friends. I would even call him my best friend. And I believe he would have done the same. We were talking one night, and he specifically told me, all the while still together with his girlfriend, that he could see himself falling for me.
A few weeks later... he did.
Or so he said.
And of course, me being the stupid, masochistic, naive and gullible girl, I was completely and utterly head over heels for him. Totally and irrevocably in love. Still am to this day.
But.. I was afraid of getting hurt. More so, afraid of hurting him. I had been told multiple times I was capable of that. Those asses. So again I turned him down. but not before confessing my feelings for him. And that of course lead to no good. Actually, no, it was kind of nice. We kept the thin line between friends and lovers but still showed our feelings for one another. It was romantic, sweet, adorable, every possible adjective that brings to mind a relationship perfectly pure. Genuine. Love.
Then I had to stop, I didn't want to lead him on when I, myself, didn't know where it was headed. You know that feeling when you don't want to see him get hurt, let alone know that you're the one that caused it. I'd been told that all I did was cause pain. That I just hurt the ones I loved.
Oh, how true that was.
From then on nothing was easy. I had hurt him so much, so badly, that I thought over every word before I said it when I was around him, just to be sure there was no possible way I could further hurt him. Apparently, that didn't do the job. The worst part was that he still 'loved' me and I still loved him but I never spoke it simply because I couldn't stand hurting his heart anymore with my damn bipolar feelings.
So I kept my feelings to myself the entire time while he, all the while keeping the friendship borderline, continued to confess and declare his love for me as if I never begged to stop and cried over it when he showed me the cuts on his arm that he said I were the cause of.
I constantly tried to push him away by telling him nothing good could come from any relationship between us. I tried telling him that it wasn't love, all those times he spoke the words "I love you", hoping he would listen yet silently praying he wouldn't ever stop; my damn hormones and stupid silly dreams getting the better of me.
Months pass; nothing changes, my urgent cries to him to stop putting himself through all this pain, to stop loving me like he did because it was unhealthy, nothing got through to him.
Then to my utter surprise and dismay, he listened.
So suddenly, he just told me he'd stop chasing after me because he hurt too much and stressed too much over it. He said he wanted to stop hurting. And just like that he had a new girl.
I now know what I've had all along and simply threw it away. I now realize that I should never make someone my everything, because when they're gone, I'll be left with nothing.