I couldn't tell you what snapped in him. I couldn't go back and pin-point the exact moment he lost it, but indeed he did and out of nowhere. I couldn't describe the change in my eyes, the sadness to overcome me, the way I didn't leave my bed for days but embarrassingly enough that meticulously was me. I could not put you as a ghost in the shotgun seat of my car, passing his house every day, getting a lucid reminder of all the good times we had in a place I'm not longer welcome, but simultaneously being reminded that everyone moves on, even if it isn't me first. I couldn't portray to you the way I physically felt my heart beating through my veins in every part of my body as I sat alone in silence in an empty room, pulsing wondering where I went wrong. I couldn't help but to go back to the day that started it all, the way we connected, the way he always knew my next move and the way he quickly figured out all my secrets. I always tried to find ways to get those secrets back but I soon realized I couldn't because in actuality he became biggest secret himself--only he could watch me fall apart first hand and feel very temporary about it. That's what happens when you fall in love with the wrong boy, so don't let it get you down.

Everyone told me "in a year or two you won't even remember that boys name" but, I didn't see how that was possible. I was so blinded simply by the idea of him. I forgot the colors made the world go 'round, because his favorite outfit on me was my black, lifeless one. I forgot the sun shined because I was too caught up in the way the moon light reflected off his face the very last time I laid eyes on him. I didn't know how to handle the winter because I was too lost in the comforting color blue of the summer sky, since it was similar to the warmth of his eyes. I didn't forget anything about him actually, how could I? But with sweet time instead, I started to remember. I started to remember the details a broken heart usually leaves out along the way like how he'd blow me off for mediocre plans, how he'd post pictures with almost everyone but me, how he always told me everything but the truth and how his temper would be unbearable after a few drinks were in him. I remembered the girl who he told me not to worry about and the way he turned everything bad in his life on me. That's when my mind began to forget him as easily as it used to record him and I was able to move forward with my life.

Don't get me wrong, being the self-destructive and condescending guy he might have been, he still taught me more about life than any novel, speaker or class--he taught me what might just be most important--self-worth and what I'm made of. I'm not going to sit here and robotically say time heals all because hey it might not, but boy does it make you wiser. Not everyone knows how to properly love someone else. Some people are born with filthy hearts to begin with and only look to contaminate anyone in their path, but you have to give it to him for being the one who taught you how to stand up for yourself and being the one to make you realize what you deserve. Sometimes you are too human in an inhumane environment and at the end of day, that's something to be proud of on your part. This was never your fault. So, go use that phone call you never got from him, on someone who tells strangers about you and stop obsessing over that false imagine of the "perfection" you had.