You Didn’t Have To Date Me, But You Also Didn’t Have To Break Me


I can’t blame you for all my problems, though I’d like to. You kickstarted my mental health decline. I still remember you breaking up with me in grade eight on the school bus ride home. There’s no logical reason for remembering that seven years later. I wasn’t allowed to be upset  I had to be in the right mood and mindset so we could still be friends. I wanted to still have you in my life so desperately that I let myself hurt just to give you what you wanted. I smiled, and I helped you through the issues you and whatever girl of that week faced. I just wanted your acceptance, your love.

Those thoughts didn’t stop in high school. I found a wonderful boyfriend and was extremely lucky, but I can see how my desire for your approval ultimately was my downfall. I was looking for things I wanted and did not need.

I just wanted your recognition. Your approval. I let go of a relationship because you showed slight interest. I wasn’t certain of it, and I just hoped one more time that things would work out. Just this once, and I was wrong once again. We were together for a few weeks when you decided I wasn’t right for you, and fed me some bullshit reason which I had to accept. I wasn’t allowed to be upset. You looked confused in history class the next day when I had a hard time looking at you and laughing at your jokes as I held back tears that were clearly unreciprocated.

My mental health continued to decline as I entered a new relationship that was not healthy. However, I let it continue. I was just so desperate for love and acceptance, and it wasn’t from you, but it was from someone. The relationship quickly ended when you confided in me how deeply you cared for the girl I was always concerned about on trip away from the school. I saw you cry and heave and I knew I deserved that kind of love.

I wished you would feel that way for me. How fucking sad is that? You’re crying about a girl that couldn’t seem to care less about you while I desperately wanted to show you how great I could be. What did you do to me to make me feel that strongly? What hold did you create on my heart? I broke up with that boyfriend I had that night.

A year later I admitted to you that and old boyfriend had tried to assault me. You were the first one I told. You were so mad, you wanted to hurt him, and I felt that you cared. I wasn’t second place to someone else. You actually cared.

That didn’t last long.

You messaged me a few days later asking why I was upset if I didn’t report it. Why I felt I had the right to be angry when I did nothing to stop it. My heart shattered again. I just wanted you to hear me. My boyfriend at the time was the next person I told, and he was upset at the situation, but the difference is that he never made me question my integrity. He held me as we both cried. He didn’t hurt me like you continually did. 

We had a class together that semester that featured heavy topics, such as rape and assault. I spoke my opinions loudly and my actions were greeted with a tweet, stating how you thought it was funny I had such a strong opinion about rape but did nothing when it happened to me.

Fuck you.

Fuck you and everything you’ve ever done to me. I trusted you with the biggest stone I carried, and you threw it into the world as if it was nothing. When someone asked who it was about you answered my name. I’ll never forget the pain I felt when I found that out. I thought I could never forgive you.

Then, we were made partners for a semester. In a moment, you could look at me and flash a smile, and I would feel alright in that one piece of time, despite the pain I still harbored towards you. I talked to my boyfriend a lot about it. How was I supposed to work with someone who had inflicted so much pain on my life? 

That semester was the first time I ever considered committing suicide. I looked up pills. My boyfriend helped bring me back to reality, but I was a lot to handle. I started seeing a counselor and hoped things would be okay. They usually were. My boyfriend was a blessing during that time, and I could never thank him enough for all his help.

The semester ended, graduation was here. I remember hearing your name called. I remember wishing we could get our photo taken together. A photo of the boy I had a crush on in Grade 1 and me.

I wished you a happy birthday that year and got no reply. 

University was coming, and I sent a good luck message to you, and you answered in the nicest way, and I almost didn’t recognize it.

I had a bad night at school and needed to talk to someone. You replied with an angry “what”. No question mark. No nothing. I still remember the stab to the heart I felt when I got that answer.

We matched on Tinder Thanksgiving of 2015 and talked and you told me that you were sorry, without really knowing what you were even apologizing for. You told me how much better I was from the old high school me. I laughed and said thanks. Fuck you. I was a passionate, caring, and strong person then, and I am now. Sorry I didn’t meet that standard in your eyes, then or now. 

We lost touch but only after you used and embarrassed me. It wouldn’t be you if you hadn’t.

Since grade eight, I’ve been put antidepressants and have to see a counsellor regularly. It’s not your fault. If I were to read back through this, I’d just see how much of an idiot I was for letting one person affect me this much. I can’t believe I did it.

The saddest part is that if you needed me, I’d probably still be there because when I make a promise, I keep it.

I don’t love you, but I always will. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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