You're Not Sorry

I sat on the bed. I wasn’t doing anything, I just sat there. I tried to think of how to do the math problem that lay before me, but I knew it was no use. All I could think about was that curly brown hair that shaped around that tan face, that red bottom lip from the routine nervous biting. Through my eyes I could not see past the mirage in my head of those icy blue eyes that I had once believed I could swim in.

I bet you thought you had me fooled, didn’t you? I bet you thought you had won me over from the minute you stepped through that door, looking so innocent.
And to be completely honest, for a while there, you did.
You sat beside me that first day, and I remembered vividly the first time you smiled as you slipped a folded piece of notebook paper onto my desk. You introduced yourself and I told you about me. You were so kind, somehow always managing to say the perfect thing at the perfect time, making each moment I spent talking to you all the more, well, perfect.

I thought back to all those times when you came to my house upset about her, and I would allow you in, and you would sit on the couch in my living room. I would try everything to make you feel better, and I would get those butterflies in my stomach every time I saw you look up at me and smile or laugh because I had said something dumb. And all that time, what was the point?

But that question is a lie. It is me lying to myself, because I knew the reason that I tried so hard to please you, all the while hoping, but knowing our friendship wouldn’t last. They never did with me. It was because, from the moment you stepped through that door, something inside me changed. That hole that had been inside of me for so long began to fill.

I could have loved you, you know. I could have made you happy. You had me falling for you, the knight in shining armor. But you shined that armor so often; you made it so shiny that I could see through it. And I saw who you really were. And eventually, you left me sitting in the cold, feeling nothing but used.
All that’s in the past now. Now all I can think about is all that time I wasted on you. And I can’t believe how stupid I was then! I shared with you my secrets, but you didn’t share yours. I had passion, but you did not return the feeling. And I knew that, don’t think I didn’t. I just kept trying to convince myself that I was mistaken. That I was just reading you wrong.

Well now you’re gone and you don’t have to come around again. It’s not like I would open the door to the sound of your knocking anyway. I won’t stoop to you again. It’s people like you that lead me to the conclusion that fairytales can’t exist, that make me feel so alone and make me feel so trapped, and make me want so badly to leave this place I used to love. And the saddest part is, knowing you,—the real you—I bet you’re not even sorry.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback