I hate that you’re important to me. I hate that now we’ve dragged ourselves into this ugly wreck of a life that we’ve been forced to live, hate that I look for you everywhere and that I imagine your arms holding me when I can finally drift off to sleep. I hate that I rested my head on your shoulder. That I let you leave a mark on my heart. It’s too scarred now; you don’t want my heart anyway. That day, you told me that you were sorry and I cried. I can’t decide if being numb is better than what I’m feeling now.
But,
I want you to remember me as the first girl who loved you, and the first girl you loved back. I want you to remember me when you’re out walking, wherever it may be. By the river, through the woods, through the city as you’re out exploring. I want you to remember how we talked and planned to do everything together. I want you to remember how comfortable we were with each other and how we always kept each other’s trust. I want you to remember me as kind, and loving, and passionate. I want you to remember me as caring, and strong, and supportive. I want you to remember me as the girl who was once your everything. I want you to remember how smart you are, no matter how many rejection letters you may receive. I want you to remember that you are capable of doing anything you want to and that you will succeed as long as you have the passion and heart to do it. I want you to look back on our time together and know that what we had was wonderful. I want you to remember our love when you’re out in the world pursuing this brave new world you’re seeking. You gave me the world, even though our worlds didn’t align. As strong as our love ever was, it didn’t last. And I’ll keep on loving you with whatever is left of my shattered heart.