It’s been three years since our paths first crossed. Three years since every single wall I had built around me came tumbling down with every sweet word you said. Three years since I had made the mistake of falling for you. There really was a moment back then when I thought everything would work out. A type of high that I swear was supposed to last longer that just a few months.

The sweet words soon turned malicious and the night that we spent laying under the stars planning for the future quickly crumbled to nothing. Somehow you caused more damage in a year than a tornado can in a matter of seconds. But even when it was all too much for either one of us to handle, we kept pushing. No longer pushing until the relationship would break, that was broken long ago, but until we would. Like a heart wrenching car accident, there’s someone who is left bleeding while the other walks away with just a mild scratch. Luckily for you, that scratch you had healed in a matter of weeks, while I’m still aiding to the wound that you made.

It’s been a year since that crash. One year and so much has changed. I still have that scar from you, and it still hurts every now and again. The faintest aches come when I remember the times where I could have sworn you were the best thing that could have happened to me. That pain is quickly overshadowed by the throbbing of pain from when I remember how you weren’t, how you actually were the worst thing I could have crashed full speed into. But either way, I remember you almost every day. I’m haunted by you. By everything I thought you were and everything you had turned out to be. You’re somehow in everything I do, and everything I think, I find you there waiting. At this point I’d rather you have been a tornado, quick and to the point rather than breaking away at me piece by piece.

It’s be a little over a year since I stopped crying over you. That scar pretty much has vanished. I only know it’s there when I accidentally run my hand over it. I have forgotten all the sweet words, since they amounted to lies anyway. I stopped remembering the good times and could only recite back to you the bad ones. But that nearly inconspicuous scar still stings when I hear your name, or remember all the chances I had to run, but no matter how fast I thought I was running I seemed to only be running in place, as if I was in a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from no matter how much I pleaded. And I hate to admit it, because I’ve figured out happiness again, but you’re still here. Not every night, but there are the nights that are filled with memories that flood my head and my body feel as if it was taken out by a tsunami. Nights where I’d rather stay awake than have you haunt my dreams.

It’s been three years and I’m still haunted by you.