Fuck you for being so attractive. For giving me butterflies every time we locked eyes, for being the right combination of cute and awkward, for making me fall for you all over again every time I looked at you.
Fuck you for texting me back two seconds after I typed out a message, for driving me home when I was too drunk to get there myself, for always saying and doing the right thing.
Fuck you for being the sweetest boy that I’ve ever met, for never getting annoyed with me even when I dragged you to places you didn’t want to be, for never staring at another girl even if she was prettier than me, for never cursing me out even when I gave you every reason to hate my guts.
Fuck you for being a good guy. Because if you were an asshole, it would be easier to get over you. I would be able to rant to my friends about how horribly you treated me and they would say that I’m better off without you, that they never liked you anyway.
If you were a horrible person, then I would be able to tell myself that I’m being ridiculous, that losing you isn’t a real loss, that I’m going to find someone that fits me so much better than you ever did.
I would be able to push back the happy memories and focus on the toxic ones. I would be able to list out all of the reasons why you don’t deserve a second of my time.
But, unfortunately for me, you’re one of the most kindhearted boys I’ve ever met. You’re the type of boy that every girl wishes she could find, that they search their entire lives for.
You’re the type of guy that got away. That no one wants to let go of.
So fuck you for giving me some of the best moments of my life. For reminding me that I’m worthy of love. For making me realize that there are still good people out there, waiting to find their match.
And fuck you for being happy for me every time I post a picture of my life instead of being jealous like I wish you were. Fuck you for actually wanting what’s best for me while I secretly hope you’re miserable without me. Fuck you for being a better person than I’ll ever be.
At this point, I don’t know if I really mean fuck you or if I actually mean thank you. Maybe they’re the same thing to me. Maybe I’m just not ready for the thank yous yet and have to hide them beneath my bitterness. I don’t know anymore. All I know is that I miss you.
So for now, the only thing I have left to say is, fuck you for existing. Because I don’t think I’ll ever get over you. I don’t think I’ll ever love someone as much as I loved you.