To The Boy Who Killed Me
Start writing a post

To The Boy Who Killed Me

I walked away, but it took everything I had.

To The Boy Who Killed Me

It was the first time I killed a man…

My pale lips curved at the edges as the tears fell down his face

although his were quivering with fear.

Fear of losing his heart.

My heart beat like I was at the edge of a cliff with one foot hovering in the air

although his was splintering down the center.

Breaking as mine continued beating.

I laughed as his face turned red and his voice bellowed out “I’m so sorry!”

although months ago he had done the same to me.

I felt nothing but joy as he collapsed.

My eyes were steady as his were dancing around looking for hope

although weeks ago he couldn’t even look into mine.

Regret flooded from his eyes like a stream.

My throat closed as he reached out for my hand

although moments ago I would have never let him go.

Things were different now.

My voice didn’t waver as I told him “goodbye”

although his cracked when he begged me to stay.

I had never said goodbye.

He asked for one last hug and I leaned in

although it felt so wrong.

He had never held me so tight.

My legs shook as I quickly walked to my car

although they usually dragged out as I begged to stay longer.

I had never felt this way.

My whole world went silent as I drove home

although my car usually bumps with sound.

All I could hear was the air going in and out of my mouth.

My phone was buzzing relentlessly

although for months it had been silent.

His name flashed across the screen.

Anger filled my blood as my heart began to slow

although I wanted to cry.

My brain wouldn’t let me.

My thumb hovered over the send button for weeks

although I wanted too I never pressed down.

My heart missed him.

His friends began to call and text

although a year ago they would never tell me where he was.

I was viewed as heartless.

My pride began to shudder with confusion

although I knew what I wanted.

I couldn’t give in.

Months went by and the calls and pleas ceased

although I barely noticed.

I had distracted myself well.

My whole body froze as he walked past me

although I looked down I wanted to look up.

I still loved him.

My heart convinced my brain to stop for a moment

although I never expected it.

I texted him.

The seconds felt like days as I waited for a reply

although he knew exactly how I felt.

I felt so vulnerable.

My lips quivered as I read his reply.

It felt like splinters were stabbing into my heart.

My face turned red as I typed “I’m so sorry!”.

My eyes began to dance around looking for hope.

My hands reached out for something to grab on too as my whole world felt unstable.

My voice cracked as I whispered “It can’t be too late”.

My mind raced back to the warmth of his arms as they held me so tightly.

My legs shook as I tried to take in what was happening.

All I could hear was my gasps for air.

He said I killed him,

although he's okay now.

He didn’t love me anymore.

It was the first time I killed a man,

although I ended up killing myself.




Report this Content
This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.

An Open Letter To The Younger Muslim Generation

Fight back with dialogue and education.


Dear Muslim Kids,

Keep Reading... Show less

The Mystery Of The Gospel

Also entitled, "The Day I Stopped Believing In God"


I had just walked across the street from the soccer field back to the school. I turned around and saw the cars rushing, passing each other, going fast over the crosswalk where I had been moments earlier. “It would be so easy to jump in front of one of them,” I thought, looking at the cars. “I could jump, and this life that I’m stuck in would be over.”

Keep Reading... Show less

College as Told by The Lord of the Rings Memes

One does not simply pass this article.


College as told by the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit memes. Everyone will be Tolkien about it.

Keep Reading... Show less

A Tribute To The Lonely Hispanic

In honor of Hispanic Heritage Month, I’d like to share a few thoughts about being Hispanic in a country where it’s hard to be Hispanic.

Veronika Maldonado

Just a little background information; my dad was born in Mexico, came to the U.S. as a newborn and became a citizen when he was 25 years old. My mom was born and raised in the U.S. as were my grandparents and great grandparents, but my great-great grandparents did migrate here from Mexico. I am proud to classify myself as Hispanic but there are times when I feel like I’m living a double life and I don’t fit into either one.

Keep Reading... Show less

Dear College Football

It's not you, it's me.


Dear College Football,

Keep Reading... Show less

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Facebook Comments