Healing

He's broken your heart and in reality, you really should've moved on by now.

He’s broken your heart and in reality, you really should have moved on by now.

Because he’s not worth it. Because there are much better guys out there. Because staying like this is only hurting you.

But then he’s avoiding you, and in some insanely crazy way, that only makes you stare longingly at his back more.

He shouldn’t have this affect on you.

After all, you’ve really only had a slight crush on him.

Or maybe it’s an obsession.

Or an infatuation.

It was absolutely not love.

Because love, that’s when you love someone and they absolutely love you back.

Love, that’s when you can see all the faults in someone and completely ignore them.

But you can see the faults in him.

(It just so happens that you like him anyway, faults and all.)

It’s when your heart starts thumping wildly and there are butterflies in your stomach whenever you see him.

But that’s not what happens.

(Not anymore, anyway.)

When you see him, you don’t have those reactions like people do in those love stories you like to read.

(All you can feel in a painful jab and then suddenly, your smile is gone as he leaves the room without once acknowledging you.)

You can’t bear to admit that’s it’s love, because then, well

That’s a pretty much fucked up "First Love," isn’t it?

He never liked you back and you never stood a chance (even though all your friends teased and giggled and pushed you two together and you may have considered, just once, the thought of him liking you back.)

You’re not his type and you’ve never been his type and you probably never will be.

He likes another girl and you can even understand why, because she’s so much better than you, so much prettier and funnier and nicer than you are and then you realize how lame you’ve been (thinking you actually stood a chance.)

But now it’s been over half a year and you’ve had the chance to heal (and mend and stitch your heart together.)

He doesn’t have the same affect on you anymore and things go back to normal.

(Well, as normal as normal can be, of course.)

(He’s still left an unfortunate scar, through, one that leaves you practically incapable of liking anyone else, but that’s okay, because you never want to go through what you’ve been through again.)

And then, when you’re finally able to think that maybe, just maybe, you can do this, his eyes suddenly meet yours and you can feel your nails dig sharply into your skin as a huge load of memories that you don’t want to remember comes rushing back. He’s not looking away (why won’t he look away?) and the longer you linger the more painful it becomes until finally, you’re the one who’s looking away.

(And you probably still could’ve repaired yourself quickly after that, but…)

It becomes a daily thing.

Like when you pass him in the hallways.

Eyes meet and then you instinctively look down as he passes gracefully by (and it makes you feel vulnerable and weak; he makes you feel vulnerable and weak and you hate him for it.)

You hate him.

It’s wrong, you know.

He never actually did anything (it was you, all you, but you want to blame someone else and who better to blame then him?)

You hate him for doing this to you.

You desperately want to heal and you desperately want to move on with life, but he’s making it impossible for you to do that and it’s just not fair. He certainly isn’t affected by you like you are him, and he’s not the one who’s hurting inside and faking a smile, and he’s not the one who’s got a broken heart to mend.

You hate him; you just want to feel better again and he’s just not letting you.

Fuck him.