You said you didn’t want “us.” You said it wouldn’t work. How can you come back months after that day in the park, that day when you told me you couldn’t see us as anything more than friends?
I hated you. I wanted to hurt you so badly. I wanted to make you feel the way that I felt; just to have you feel remotely what it was to have your heart ripped out. I let you say those things, too. I let you say what you needed; I kept my mouth shut, until I couldn’t take it. Then I blew up at you. I said everything that you didn’t want to hear. How I felt, how much I hurt from all of this and how it hurt me to know, all along, you didn’t feel what I did for you.
Now, you suddenly come up with all of these feelings and say you love me. Now, when I was just getting over all of it. It took me months to get to this point, to where I could sleep through more than two nights without dreaming about you and to when I could sit next to you without getting the urge to hold you. It hurt so much to tell myself that you weren’t obtainable, and now you say you are.
As much as my stomach flips for the thought of a chance with you, I don’t want to take it. I can’t bring myself to believe that you could suddenly change, despite your claims. You say it’s what I said that day that made you feel like this.
“After you said it, I thought forever,” you say. “It’s taken me this long, but I can’t stop thinking about what you said.”
I don’t want to be hearing this. I look at you, standing there with wide eyes, expectant eyes. I don’t know what it is you’re expecting from me. A hug? A kiss? A chance? Here comes the saying “Two out of three ain’t bad.” Yes it is. It’s absolutely murderous in that situation. I’ve replayed that day, that conversation, those words over and over and every time it hurts more. You saying that you couldn’t be with me, you saying that you felt bad for hurting me. Then you asked to hug me, and I let you do it. Then you asked to kiss my cheek, and I let you do that too! Why? I’ve regretted it ever since.
Why should I give in? Why should I give you the satisfaction of getting what you want? I don’t want to go through with this, I couldn’t take the pain that might come. It would, too. I’m not a positive person and never have been; I know this wouldn’t turn out right. Something would happen, something that would hurt me probably more than it would hurt you. For months this has slowly been killing me, clouding my thoughts of what would happen, what I would do if this situation ever came about. Now I know what would happen, how it would go, what you would say and what might come of it all.
And I just don’t want to deal with it.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.