“You’re not my biggest heartbreak anymore,” I whispered, and thousands of memories came flashing back to me, out of control in all directions.
Sneaking kisses behind bookshelves and leaving bite marks on each others’ skin to keep us awake in the library. Walking hand in hand in the rain, our laughter echoing in the dark alley. The first time you told me you loved me while we were on the rooftop, watching the city below us light up one by one.
Your voice waking me up every morning. The playful arguments over Monopoly Deal that always ended up in ice cream dates. Sleeping in the cab, stuck in traffic. Your gentle hands washing my hair for the third time as I cried silently out of frustration because I hated the smell of cigarettes, and how it clung tightly on my hair. The look of concentration on your face as you cooked me candied bacon.
You wanting to fix our squabbles before we go to bed, promising that you’d always stay.
Then, the green monster getting the best of both of us on our dark days. The lack of trust whenever the other was not around. The first time you let me see your tears when you asked me to choose between you and something that I loved doing, and I chose the latter. Going down 18 floors in the fire exit, screaming at your silence. That phone call that might as well concluded everything. Your “I used to love you so much” and my “I don’t want this anymore” when all I wanted was to try harder.
You choosing them over me. Shoving back your jersey and you, turning your back on me so that I didn’t see you cry. The last time we went out with your sisters, the way we acted as if nothing was ending. Sitting on the grass under the moonlight and swearing we’d still be friends. The first time I saw you with her, happier that I’ve ever seen you since. My “I don’t want to be your friend”, and then reading the saddest two words you could ever send me – “Thank you”.