Love Story18 Jun, 2012 11:39 PM
Isn't it funny how people think they know you? They think they know every single thing about you and your feelings. How it will effect you, how you'll feel after they say it to you. They don't realize what they're doing to you. It's almost funny, but not quite. Everybody says how girls are vicious and mean, and it's true. I once read in a book that women have their trays of sharp pointy tools, like at the dentist office. But I have a better analogy. It's like getting stabbed in the heart with a knife. Only it doesn't hit the heart right away. It gets deeper every day by milimeters.
The blood that pours out are the tears that are emptied into the pillow late at night when no one's listening. The deeper it goes, the more you start to think about killing yourself. Once it reaches the heart, you've gone and killed yourself without realizing it, blinded by the pain. There comes a point in your life when you have to decide if you're going to listen to what people tell you. I chose not to. Even so, you retain some of the hurt.
A girl doesn't ever forget. She doesn't forget the time you asked why she didn't sit with the other girls. When you told her that you thought all girls were friends. When you wouldn't ask her to dance with you. Why you never even asked if she was okay when she was crying. Girls remember all the stuff you've ever said. How you could make her laugh just by saying a sentence or a word. How you would laugh and joke around with her like she was just another girl.
I don't know why I like you. I didn't even know I liked you, at least not until now. But I know there was never any chance for me. Ever.
You were too cool. I was just an awkward girl who would die rather than admit to the idiot across the aisle that he was hurting her. Who would have thrown herself off a bridge instead of telling anyone how much she hated being made fun of, how much it hurt. You never saw the hurt in my eyes as yet another girl stepped all over me with iron-shod feet. The pain I screamed into my pillow, late at night when everyone else was asleep. You never saw. Not once.
I could almost hate you for it.
But I don't.