The truth of it is, I’m not over you yet.
I’d like to pretend I am.
I’d like to pretend that I don’t look for your car at every stoplight,
that I don’t hope you’d come knocking at my door to apologize and fix everything,
that I didn’t place you on such a high pedestal.
I’ve been trying to fake it until I’ve made it, but I can’t anymore.
“I’m still hanging on, I was at the end of every tether waiting for what once was.”
A song that’s been on repeat for 11 months.
The song you played for me on our first date, the saddest Her’s song I’ll admit.
I was a naive and young girl so madly in love.
But 11 months later, here I am.
Broken from a 9 month relationship that ended two months ago.
I wish I could say I hated you,
that everything you said and did was awful and that I don’t love you and I don’t care about you.
You manipulated my kindness and made me feel weak and blindsighted.
It’s hard because I am slowly sinking back into madness two months later after I was slowly healing and after our last interaction this week,
and you seem fine.
Everyone keeps telling me you’ll feel sad once I’m feeling better,
that you’ll realize what you’ve been missing,
but that bridge burned down weeks ago.
But I forgive you.
I forgive you for hurting me,
I forgive you for moving on so quickly,
I forgive you over and over again.
I forgive you for a lot of things,
but I will never forgive you for how you changed and treated me the second you discarded me after everything.
That I can never forgive you for.
I hate the way you make me feel.
I can’t hate you,
I was probably the happiest I’ve been while I was with you,
but I hate the things you’ve done,
and I hate that I will probably never get the apology I deserve.
But I don’t hate you,
and I don’t think I could ever find it in my heart to hate you,
and that’s what hurts the most.