I’ve been mean. I won’t deny it.
I’ve scratched your name out of the pages of my life, only to wish that you’d return again and bring me an ounce of happiness. I’ve caused you pain, relishing the tears you shed and the wounded words you spoke. I’ve hated you, plotting the chaos I’d wreak in your life, after discovering your deceitful, conniving ways. Your unhappiness gave me a tinge of guilt – I really did love you – but I sought revenge. I waged a war against you for breaking my heart and although I feigned ignorance of your dirty deeds, I vowed to bring you to your knees.
I’ve won, but gained no joy.
My eyes were clouded with tears, my mind was spinning in circles and although I succeeded in bringing you pain, I felt hollow and frail. I felt like I was spinning on a carousel; the rest of the world blended into a colorful blur while I spun in circles and drowned in my own vengeful ways. I screamed for help, I wanted someone, anyone, to pull me off the carousel and pull the plug on the painful emotions that coursed through me. Nobody came to my rescue and I couldn’t hold on. I cried and cried and cried until my dry, blood-shot eyes weren’t able to shed another tear anymore. I clawed at my skin, yearning to pull it off my bones, and escape the torture that threatened to swallow me whole. I only wanted your love but I didn’t know it’d come with betrayal as well.
I’ve missed you. I won’t lie.
Perhaps our romance could have blossomed into an envious love affair. Perhaps I should have given you the chance to explain the rumors that reached my ears before your explanations. Perhaps I was wrong and irrational, as you had claimed. Perhaps my wounded pride had blindly sought out revenge without all of the pieces of the puzzle in place. Perhaps you were innocent but I simply refused to acknowledge it. Perhaps you still think about the night we went our separate ways, and perhaps you’re thinking of me while you’re with someone else. Perhaps we’ll be together someday, look back on this and laugh…