It’s been close to a year since we met. I remember the way you approached me at the bar, the questions I asked about your tattoos, the way I told you the music was too loud for me to hear you. It’s been close to a year since we almost dated. We spent hours on the phone, every single day, opening up like we had with no one else. We talked about all the things we would do when I moved back to school at the end of the summer. We talked about everything we had experienced and how we wouldn’t be the same as all the others. We talked, and talked, and talked… until one day when you just stopped talking. That was the day you told me to stop talking too, and that day you broke my heart.
It took me a while to admit to myself that everything we had was just a lie. You told me how real your feelings were and how much you liked me and how I never had to worry with you. I trusted you so much. But the day you told me to stop talking to you, the day you broke my heart, was the day I stopped trusting people so easily. I put everything on the table and accepted your flaws like you did mine, and you turned around like nothing ever happened. After that, I let my new job consume me. I didn’t stress over you because I was so wrapped up in becoming a better woman for myself. Always, though, in the back of my mind, I knew the pain you caused.
I came back to school with stories about travel and work, but also the tale of the boy who was almost mine. It’s so hard to look at people as I tell them about how you hurt me, because they always look so sad and it’s another whack in the face reminding me how terrible you are. I get angry when someone mentions your name, your town, the night that I met you. I gave you all of my trust through late night phone conversations and back-to-back texts. You told me everything you had been through and the struggles you faced. So why did you lead me on to this perfect relationship and throw it away at the drop of a hat? What kind of sickeningly awful person throws away somebody’s trust and ends it all with “don’t talk to me ever again?” You didn’t even give me an explanation.
One can imagine the rage I felt when I saw you out one night, for the first time, eight months after you cut ties. Let’s just say that I froze. My head dropped to the floor, my heart ached, and all I wanted to do was cry. How dare you come near me, look me up and down, act like you don’t know who I am. Give it a couple weeks, until I see you again. This time I’m prepared. I look good and feel good. Nothing can bring me down now. So while you’re busy smoking through a pack of cigarettes all night, I’ll be dancing on the other side of the floor with my best friends. You’ll be eyeing me from your bar stool and I’ll be shamelessly getting loose to Taylor Swift’s "Shake It Off." This night is all mine.
You destroyed me. I opened my heart to you and expected something wonderful, but it only ended in grief. I don’t see people the same way anymore because I expect everyone to do the same as you. There’s this song called "Me and My Kind" by Cody Johnson. I used to like the song because of the artist, and I can remember listening to it in your truck, but now it fills me with an energetic wrath. I like to think I’m the girl being sung about in the song, and I can only hope you can see that too. I hear the song now and am reminded how good I’m doing without you. While so much about me has changed negatively because of you, I have found some positive in this too. There is a fierce new sense of confidence in me, and the desire to show myself as someone other than the quiet, naive girl. I am happier, sassier, and completely in control. You may have broken my heart, but I can promise you one thing, sweetheart: you didn’t break my spirit.
Sincerely,
The girl that was almost (and never will be) yours
