270

by Violet

Look, it wasn’t really fair but no one ever said it would be, did they? No one promised you that this life was going to be made up of dreams come true and memories worthy of romantic comedies, the kind that was cheesy but he would reluctantly sit through and secretly enjoy but never admit to.

No one ever said you deserved to be happy. Happiness was a luxury not a right, something to yearn for but never to keep. Something to hold onto but still be cursed to witness it slip away. A chance to climb only to fall further than you ever did, each time testing the strength of your ability to keep your heart beating. She stopped calling. Some people never want to be mended. Some get tired of being saved.

Sometimes the deepest wounds don’t bleed at all. No one notices when you’re vulnerable to the sharpness of air. How I can miss it. The sharp edges, the reminders to stay unkind. You and your smug perfect smile. Your carefully curated messy hair. The ability to leave me behind. The cleverness to forget my name. I was never so much the one that got away as the one that forced you to change your number. I called once so I could hear your voice again. It wasn’t what I remembered.

I had a childish naivety that was incompatible with reality. I urged you to reconsider, even though I really did know better.

What was the purpose of staying lonely? What does it mean if they prefer solitude over your company? How extravagant must your failures be to have provoked such opinions?

Why are you still here? He might actually miss you if you had the decency to die young like you promised.