To The Guy Who Broke My Heart Into A Million Little Pieces

Ryan Vaarsi
Ryan Vaarsi

To the guy who broke my heart:

I hate to love you and love to hate you.

You broke me. You took my beautiful heart and smashed it into a million pieces. You turned the girl who always saw the good in people into a girl who couldn’t trust anyone. I was afraid to love in any way, shape, or form for fear of feeling like this—so completely broken. I understand feelings change, but did you have to hurt me so cruelly? You didn’t respond to my texts, didn’t look my way at school, didn’t even give me a warning.

And just like that you ruined me.

I couldn’t leave my house because of the depressed state you left me in. As you were riding around in your car with other girls, I was home laying in a ball on the floor cry-singing to Taylor Swift. I would text you looking for answers and you wouldn’t respond. Yet, I would see pictures on Facebook from the same night. You looked so happy.

Why were you allowed to be happy when I was home broken?

I have spent the last 5 years trying to rebuild myself. You left me no choice. After the months of crying and questioning myself, I had nothing left to do but pick up the pieces from the mess you made. I’m better now.

Looking back, I hate that you made me feel so pathetic and small. I didn’t deserve it then and I don’t deserve it now. There are still parts of me that wish you would call—that I’d look at my phone and see a text message from you confessing your love for me. Saying that you take it all back and were confused because you had never felt feelings so strong for someone before. I would like to hear that. But, as the great Taylor Swift once sang, “ I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale.”

And a fairytale this is not. This is real life.

In real life I would be completely over you, but I’m not. For whatever reason, your lack of presence is still with me. It reminds me of what we once had and how we will never have it again. After all this time, the void is still there. Sometimes I find myself wanting to text you, but I remind myself of all the shit you put me through. On some days when the pain gets really bad, I go on your Facebook and look at posts from years ago, the same posts that ripped my heart out. It’s those posts, comments and pictures that remind me why I love to hate you. Yet, there are posts, comments and pictures I see that remind me why I hate to love you.

I hate to love you and love to hate you. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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