Maybe I’m not meant to love. Possibly I never was. Every person I love I end up hurting in some way. Or they end up ripping me apart. I take responsibility for my actions. Never in my life will there be a time will I deny what I did wrong. But at some point can’t he take responsibility for the way he hurt me?

He convinced me I was worthless for a while. I thought I was the scum of the earth and I could never do anything right. I thought I was completely unlovable. Maybe I was at that point. I had shaped myself to be what he wanted and not who I was. I changed and then changed again. I became cocky and annoying. Instead of who I was, the quiet girl who almost always had a book.

I know I shouldn’t say it was his entire fault I felt that way, but really that’s the only reason I can find. When he first spoke to me to when he asked me out that day in the right wing loft he started to make those feelings fade from previous issues. When he kissed me in that same right wing right next to the traveler curtain for good luck in my first show they disappeared almost completely. I still felt as though I wasn’t beautiful and I wasn’t worth as much as he deserved, but in a way he made it all go away.

The night he first told me he loved me, about 3 weeks into our relationship, I didn’t hear him. We were in his back yard with his friends at a bonfire he started. God bless the broken road was playing in the background and he just pulled me close and started dancing with me. I remember I had hardly slept the night before and was almost asleep in his arms when he said it. I never knew till he told me a few days later and asked why I didn’t say anything.

I remember the first time I met his grandmothers and how sweet they were. Offering me food and talking to me. They had some really funny stories and I loved listening to them. At one point we were laying on the living room floor and I was almost asleep on top of him so he pulled a blanket over us. His grandmother walked in right at that moment and flipped out and it was so funny.

Even his church accepted me. We would go to youth group every Wednesday (maybe it was Tuesday) and I loved the talks we had and how natural it all felt. At one point his mom had gotten us both cupcakes, I can’t remember how/why, and he shoved one in my face. Icing was in my hair and all over my glasses; I think some of the icing I never got out of that pair of glasses.

He always cared so much about me. Making sure I would eat and sleep, to the point his mom would ask about it too. If I was upset he would just hold me no matter how angry I would get, or if I soaked his shirt with tears. I remember calling him at night because I couldn’t sleep and we would talk about nothing and I would fall asleep to the sound of his voice.

I know for sure I loved him, part of me always will. I was the silly freshmen who fell for the senior. I felt so special that he chose me to date. He made me feel as though I was worth something when I was with him.

When I left him I would cry alone and act like it didn’t hurt me. I wanted him to be happy and I thought I didn’t make him happy. When he left me, I shattered. My heart was in shreds and still has pieces missing.

This year I found out on Halloween night he talked to another girl who moved to Pennsylvania. He was supposed to be waiting for her for our whole relationship. At that moment I truly shattered in front of him. I think that’s what truly killed parts of my heart. I felt so used, so unwanted. I felt absolutely worthless. Some nights I still cry over him. He broke me that badly. But I broke him too, so really I just got what was coming to me.

When I see him I think of the bad things that we both did. But when I see his eyes I remember the good times and the love I felt. I truly hope that he will be happy in the future. I hope I will be too.