"The Unloving Girl Is Ranting - Part Eight"

You never meant to hurt me, ever.
I loved you and I know you loved me.
You never gave up, of course.
I didn't know what love was, still don't.

The lunchbell rings and I tend to always look in that corner you sat, the fact I see you happy makes me content.
You made your bed now lay in it.
You see my face and you see a traitor, a heart breaker, a user and addictive girl who won't ever love because she doesn't know how to.
It's okay.
You are allowed to have an opinion.

You look at my trembling eyes and see glossy remnants of something that didn't mean to hurt you,
I tried, really, but when it came down to it, I'm weak.
I didn't know how to help you with something I never saw.
Thank you, Annie.

You helped me,
and loved me,
and I threw it away.

But.

I know what I did wrong, I wasn't always there for you.
You were.
That obviously wasn't fair.
So instead of doing something I couldn't, I gave you to some one I knew who could.
He loves you with a heart that hasn't been broken, to my knowledge.
Because when you love some one with a heart that has cracks,
you run the risk of that person getting cut.

You are everywhere and inbetween,
that doesn't mean I still want you.
I don't.
Even if I did,
I wouldn't do anything about it.
You may never read this.
But at least if you do,
you'll know how sorry I am.

But, you're right.
I don't actually care about your tears or heart ache.

I may have left you.
But when your new love told you the same thing I told you,
who did you listen to?
For some reason you listened to me.
You always did.
So when I said,
leave me for him.
You did.

I didn't want you back because I knew it would kill me.
Why is it that dating two people is somehow okay?

Did you have any idea how that made me feel?

Worthless.

But, I am.
High School is for experiementing and lust.
Not marriage and love.

Sure, I wanted to.
And I never loved anyone but you.

You did.
That was my fault.
How was I supposed to stop you from hitting your mother?
I told you over and over how to control your anger,
that she didn't hate you.
That you were beautiful and a great girlfriend.
That you were an amazing girl.
That you were my everything.
I tried fixing your depression and panic attacks.
But how could I?
It wasn't something that I could just pick up and throw away.
If you needed help in school, I'd help you.
If you needed money, I'd disobey my parents for you.
If you needed a kiss, I'd walk through the snow.
If you wanted to cuddle, I'd trust.

I know that I had, have, many problems and I seemed to unravel before your very eyes, into your yearning arms.
That's something I miss.

I wasn't jealous of your love.
You're not a whore, I was drunk when I said that.
I was hurt.

When I first went to your house,
you yelled at your mom because she didn't get you something from the store.
I thought "what a brat" but I stayed and everytime you yelled at her and she hissed back, I sat there and sweated.
Later, I stopped it.
When I first kissed you,
your face went so red.
When I first made true love to you,
you were so scared I thought you'd implode.
When I first told you about Adam,
you told me a lie.
When you told me you were lying,
I cried and threatened you.
After,
I said sorry so many times I forgot what I was sorry about.

You and me, had a certain relationship that every high school couple had.
It's something to cry about and pout.
But you hate me.
I lied when I said I hated you.
I was mad when I said that.

No, I'm not off having emotionless sex.
What happened to poems being like a story?

Yes, I'm getting drunk and taking hits of weed.
It's how I stop myself from taking that blade.

I'm having fun.
I'm trying to breathe.
I'm still holding on.

You didn't want to make a decision,
but when one was made for you,
the one that you didn't like,
you got mad.

How is that fair?

Sorry that I didn't want to go into depression and hate myself just so you could love two people at the same time.

But,
it's better this way.

You can love him and accept his love without his pulling away.

Don't look at me.
Don't talk to me.
Don't comment on any of my poetry.

This is a sacred place,
the only place I do not fear that I will be judged.
DO NOT take that from me.

Oh, thanks for the backbone.
Oh, thanks for the inspiration.
Oh, thanks for the trouble.

What makes you think I want you back?
What makes you think I would take you?

I am sorry.
For everything that ever went wrong in our relationship.
For hurting your heart.
For blaming you.

This was my fault.
I know.
Stop reminding me.

"I see why Adam took a swing at you and why Breeanna cheated on you."

How dare you ever type those words to me?
I didn't blame you for hurting your mother,
or her leaving
or your dad being a drunk
or your dog dying
or our relationship dying.
And I never will.
I guess I'm just SO selfish that I think everything is my fault.

I may not be a famous writer, poet, psychiatrist, or artist.
But at least I will know who I've wronged and what I've done.

The computer screen fizzes and music becomes a bit salty in my ears,
the room is shaking, the season always chilled around my head.
A grand farewell waves with a white cloth on a swinging boat.
My heart twitches like a smile unmoving,
lungs becoming like weights as the muck of my mind clouds your image.
Something cold curls asleep in my stomach,
feeling sick as the ocean rocks falling in the waves.
You have taken so many shaking steps away from me,
the air less stale and even though I'm falling I don't mind.
Bottle it up and move on.
I smile as I block you from anything me,
walls I broke for you reanimate to life at your presence.
It's not that I hate you,
it's that I don't want to be so sad anymore.
Kindly shut up and get over yourself,
get over me, please?
I won't turn around and I won't let you get to me,
this isn't so bad.

Life's worth living.
No one's worth dying for.
I'll make my own 'happy ending'.