I Wish It Wasn't True

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
The man She can't stop loving.

Submitted: June 07, 2012

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Submitted: June 07, 2012



She shouldn’t have been surprised, nor should she have felt the sting of pain that rushed through her heart the way it did. This was his way. You loved him and then he denied you of himself. No texting, No Facebook, Nothing. She didn’t know why she let herself fall for it- time and time again. Maybe it was the intimate pictures she shared with him; the first person she’d ever trust with such treasures. How certain she became that he gave them away like candy; any girl who’d share with him a passing glance would be so lucky. If she ever were to glance at his phone she knew she would find the names of girls: prettier than her, skinnier than she was, and far more desperate. Not that jealousy was a problem, for she saw him next to never; she was not his. No one understood why she caved in- time and time again. This girl was better than that- she deserved better- but she believed otherwise.
The first time was the hardest for her because that was the only time they were ever truly together. Merely days after making her wildest dreams come true, he broke her heart the way only he could ever do. It was the middle of summer and only dating him three days should not have killed her inside the way it did. Except for the fact that she had wanted to be with him while she was still with her ex, the one who introduced them. Things with her ex dragged on for some time but she knew it had really ended after he began texting her. Anyway; after he broke her- the first time- she cried herself to sleep for a while and then threw herself into a relationship she secretly knew would never last. She didn’t want it to last but, the way it ended made her crave for something she had lost- deep inside herself- not so long ago.
She had his sweatshirt that she had taken when they were still only friends. His smell had long since been worn off and with great apprehension she let her mother wash it. The girl had passed the stage of denial and was beginning to try and heal herself. She wished her dog had more interest in it but stuffing the sweatshirt to the bottom of her closet would have to suffice. In the beginning of her plight she had blocked him from Facebook and it just so happened that on the day she unblocked him, it was his eighteenth birthday (August 23) the one they had talked so much about. She simply wished him a happy birthday because no matter how much you hate someone, they still deserve a good birthday. After that day he apologized to her and after some ranting, to which she was entirely entitled, she forgave him. They didn’t talk all that much but she was back in his life and that was better than nothing for her.
It was a cold, snowy day when he came to give her his chain in return for his sweatshirt. They stood outside for a short while and talked; he apologized in person for being an asshole, hugged her, and gave her the silver chain that would come to cause such controversy in her life. Beyond that night they would share and occasional message between each other and things were pretty boring. She like boring, she could live with boring- except when she couldn’t. She lost her strength and though she knew he only saw her as a friend she had to tell him that her heart was still his; she still loved him. And with that, it all came crumbling down. It took a few weeks but his texts finally stopped coming and she knew it had ended again.
There would be days she could find the strength to wear his chain and minutes she would cry at the sight of it. February 28; two simple words and a frowning face, sadI’m sorry. The text messages, the renewed I’m sorry’s, and the promise that it would never happen again. Except that it did. She thought many times about selling his chain to prove to him (to herself more than anything) that she would never take him back. She came dangerously close to selling it but at the last minute her feelings for him got in the way. She sat in her desk, the chain within her grasp: just staring. That message threw them both into a frenzy of multiple intimate pictures and erotic text messages. She felt so complete to be talked to the way he did to her. Just as it had happened before; the messages slowed and then stopped completely.
They both lasted so very long this last time. She had blocked him for many months but finally felt she was strong enough to re-friend him. For many people that shouldn’t seem like much but, for those who have loved, lost, and continued to love; you understand. And then he messaged her Text me if you ever feel like talking again i don’t blame you if you don’t. She wasn’t going to ever talk to him again; he could burn in hell for all she cared- except she did care. He texted her for one day and after two days of not hearing from him she felt that familiar mixture of betrayal, hurt, and anger at her own blind ignorance.

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