Maybe if I had remembered the way he laughed I’d still love him. He was like bubblegum, and bubblegum always loses it’s flavor after you chew it for too long. Sorrow is like that, too. Once you’re sad for too long you get bored and want to be happy. Some days though, I get tired of being happy. I want to be in pieces all over again because of him. But I can’t make him come back because he loves someone else, and I was just a stepping stone in his story. A sentence in a novel. One word in the dictionary. I was nothing but someone to use, and walk all over on his way to finding a happiness he will never reach. You don’t find happiness in people, you find it in yourself.
Maybe we wouldn’t have drifted apart if he had realized that. Maybe I’d still be clutching onto the figment of the person he used to be. I tend to cling to people, and I get too attached, and I’m sorry you were the one I happened to. It’s awful, but I hope I hurt you. I hope you experienced a fraction of the pain I went through. I hope you felt the weight of your own regret crush your bones, and dry up your veins. I hope your lungs turn black from the stupid menthols you smoke, and I hope your fear turns you to stone. I hope at some point you with you learn you cannot do to people what you did to me. I hope she hurts you in the same way.