Do you have any idea how many nights I spent crying because you had conveniently forgotten to text me back? Maybe it was because I was young and inexperienced and genuinely naïve, and it’s probably not fair for me to blame everything on you, but I’m going to anyway, because I can’t handle it any other way.

You were everything to me for so long. My heart was broken and yet somehow, I still found just a enough pieces to pin it on you. You were everything a girl could have possibly wanted, and ironically, you were the one that every girl wanted. At first I couldn’t believe how lucky I had been, and I kept telling myself that it was a mistake and you were only talking to me because you felt bad. Maybe I was right. But I like to think we were actually friends at some point. I spent so many hours at your house, acting like a complete moron hoping you’d fall in love with the silly little girl next door. And for such a long time, I thought you had. You did everything right- you texted me, you called me, you gave me your clothes and drove me home. You invited me out with your friends and spent hours with me.

But looking back on it, I doubt that stuff meant anything to you. I think I’m making you out to be more of a villain than you were, because you’re not a bad person, but I need closure and I need blame. Everything was so perfect at first, and then things slowly started to go wrong. It was summer and I had finally started to regain my confidence back. Maybe it wasn't such a stretch that someone like you could ever like someone like me after all.

Every flaw that somebody else pointed out, I found an excuse for. Always late? You were a really busy person with important things to do. Always cancelling plans? You had to keep other people happy, too. After all, I didn’t want to start drama and make people jealous. But I look back on all this stuff now and I can’t help but feel ashamed at how many times I lied and covered up for you. For what, exactly? A few more nights by a fire with you talking about the girls you were going to hit on?

You were never really there for me. I’d try to tell you about my problems and you’d always turn the conversation into something about you. I always dismissed it, because I was happy to simply be talking to you. I would spend countless hours helping you work through your feelings about your ex-girlfriends and your worries, and you couldn’t spend even two seconds on me. But all those late night talks must have sparked something, because soon enough, everyone started asking me if we were dating. I would just shake my head, blush, and say that you couldn’t possibly feel the same about me. Secretly, I liked when people told me that. It made me feel like there really were feelings on your part, almost like they were speaking for you, saying what you couldn't.

But now I know better. You weren’t a shy person. In fact, you’re one of the least shy people I’ve ever met. I just couldn’t handle the truth at the time. The wounds were still so fresh and bleeding, and I couldn’t stand the thought of having to rip off the band aid that was holding them together. But I did do it, eventually. And good God did it hurt for the longest time. I thought I was never going to get better. But then I realized that while I was still broken, you hadn’t as so much as suffered a scratch. And I guess it was at that point where I realized I needed to be thankful that I got a clean break, because they heal so much faster and easier than messier ones.

Even after we stopped talking, I wanted to talk to you, all the time. But I held myself back, reminding myself that you left so easily. You left like we had never been friends at all. And in the end, it was better like that. Because I did heal eventually. And I became better than I was when I met you. You did so much for me, but at the same time, it was never enough. So maybe I have you to thank for that, and without you, I wouldn’t have found the little confidence I needed to meet the current love of my life. But I’m never going to tell you that, because I know you wouldn’t understand. You were my world, and I was only a blade of grass in yours. So thanks, but goodbye.