I pretend that it was never good,
when people ask why we ended I tell them we were just young and I was blind, that we fought more than we loved and that the entire relationship was an exhausting experience that I’m glad to be out of. But the truth is I’ve never seen another pair of eyes like yours, my mom still asks about you and I can’t seem to shake the feeling I got when I was next to you.
You wanna know the most annoying thing about it all? It’s the fact I tried so hard to hate you. I went over what you did to me a thousand and one times. I swore to myself that I deserved better than a boy who one day decided he didn’t love me anymore. I told myself that someone like you didn’t deserve me at all. I fought it for so damn long, I tried so hard not to love you, but then you smiled, and I almost ripped my heart out of my chest and placed it in your hands every single time.
I loved you very much, that’s for sure. And I know you loved me too and at some point I believe that we were meant to be, perhaps our destinies had different routes but despite everything, the arguments, the driving each other absolutely fucking insane, the jealousy, the ignorance and the one hundred ignored texts… We were meant to be. At some point our paths were supposed to entwine and I was supposed to love you, perhaps not walk off into the sunset with you, perhaps the universe has someone completely different in mind for that, but I truly believe that I was supposed to know you. Love you. Be with you.
I loved you and sometimes, you did too.