I literally have nothing left to say or think. You’re finally gone. I don’t feel you here anymore. I don’t miss you, and it’s absolute bliss.

She was the only one, there was no one else, you pushed me towards her, it was a mistake, I was lonely, It only happened once, I just couldn’t say goodbye, I don’t know why I did it, none of that happened, I was just infatuated with her, it didn’t mean anything, I don’t talk to her anymore, you’re the only girl I have ever actually loved, I miss you. 

I love you.

I won’t be one of those girls who lets the world see their faults, their problems, the needy ones. I am good enough. I am the most honest, determined, strong woman I know. I am proud of the person I am. I play division 1 athletics for the one school I wanted, how many people can say they went after what they wanted and they got it? I can and I refuse to settle for less than I deserve. I know I can do amazing things for the world and myself. I am original, I am one of a kind, there is not another me on this planet. I am beautiful, maybe not to everyone, maybe not to most people, but I am beautiful, I am intelligent, I am different, I am honest, I am special. I deserve to demand excellence, in all aspects of my life. I refuse to let anyone especially a man who doesn’t care about me enough to consider my psychological state. I hope she was worth it, because as different and outstanding she may think she is, all she does it talk about the things she plans to do with her life, while living as nothing more than mediocre. I am allowing my aspirations come to life while she sits behind a computer screen writing about them. I am stronger than ever, I won’t wait around for my life to start, I taking it. This is my life, I am young, beautiful, and strong. No one can change that. No one can stop me.

It would be a glorious day if I could go 24 hours without thinking of you. If only it were possible to give yourself amnesia. I tell myself that I would wipe you from my memory without hesitation if I were presented with the opportunity. However part of me is so grateful for knowing you, for everything you taught me about life, love, and myself. This may not have been the great love of my life, however you were the first and that has some substantial existence within the back of my mind. The worst part is not knowing exactly what you felt, or do feel. Do you still think about me? Daily? Do  you miss me with some improbable yearning. Do you have any desire to take back what you did? Or would you keep your decisions left on display in a glass cabinet for the world to see. Or is it presentation for my eyes only. Do you find enjoyment in my torment? Is that why you can’t tell a small scrap of even the smallest last honest bit of what is left of your outstanding pure moral? Do you even realize that it is gone? Do you realize who you are? The man you have become? I had so much faith in you, you were one of the good ones. The microscopic fraction of men left on this planet with a shred of decency. Now you are like the rest of them. It’s no wonder I can’t seem to find you anymore, you’re forever lost in a sea of moral-less men who have no concern in the world except their next conquest. You were a man worth writing about, now that man is just distant fond memory. I don’t miss you.

Most people don’t know what it’s like to be angry, in your bones. To be left time and time again by people who aren’t meant to leave. To hide things and people that aren’t meant to be hidden. They are dying, deteriorating in the places where they were left, never to be let out. Most people complain and broadcast their false anger about their pathetically perfect lives. They find reasons to be angry with one another and they fight and argue until they eventually tire of their foolish game. It’s quite simple actually, I never seem angry, because I’m always angry. In my bones. 

It’s hard these days to find a gentleman, they are a dying breed. However, I got a little lucky. He was a perfect mess of blond shaggy hair, playful humor, and manners. Your typical all american boy coming from a well respected family. We had been good friends for a long time, but there were always unspoken feelings. Finally one evening during the closing credits of the titanic with Celine Dion playing in the background of his split-level basement those feelings finally surfaced and our friendship got a little more complicated. A month later I made a decision in a moment of disappointment to tell him I loved him, and he said it back. We spent 4 months entirely infatuated with one another. However, he had a habit of getting tired of his relationships and jumping from girl to girl. I was well aware of this habit of his, but I didn’t care he said he loved me and I believed him, and he gave me something he had never given anyone else. It was different. Until irony stepped in and reminded me that old habits certainly do die hard. We lasted exactly six months to the day, the longest actual relationship he has ever had. I guess I hold the bragging rights to that record, but I don’t want them. I don’t want him, or any man who can so easily destroy someone they care for just to have countless summer flings before college. I guess the time old question stands- Where have all the good men gone?