In the past year I didn't forget the agony i went through, scrolling through profiles of people you might be interested in, people you might value more than me.
I didn't forget all the blood-chilling nights, where I simply longed for you. Every 11:11 was dedicated to you, to wishing you would love me. Every 12:12 was dedicated to me, wishing I didn't love you.
Every day and night, every afternoon and morning, every minute and hour; there you were. Swimming through my thoughts, diving headfirst into my dreams.

And the worst part is, you didn't care. You knew, somewhere in your mind, that you were killing me.
Of course, it isn't your fault you didn't love me, but who's fault is it that i was hopelessly in love with you?
I don't know if i should blame myself, for not listening when i was warned, for not running when i was pushed, or if i should blame you for using me.
Using me to raise your self esteem, to make her jealous, to entertain yourself. Who's fault is it, that every october is going to hurt for the rest of my life?
That every spring breeze will sing of you?
I have tried it all. Pretending you never existed. Coming to terms with what happened. Anger. Forgiveness. All of it. Sadness, acceptance, grieving, whatever else there is; i've done it.

I blamed myself, I blamed you, I blamed her.
Maybe it's all of our faults.
We all took a part in the chaos.


But nobody has ever told me what to do when the tragedy ends and all that's left is brittle bones and broken windows.
How do you rebuild a body, after a tornado?

Maybe if I change my name,
I'll forget yours.

Maybe if I break this body bad enough, I will forget the way yours felt.

If I rip the skin from my bones, if I pull the hair from my skull, If i bend and break myself until I look in the mirror and see a stranger,
maybe then I will forget how it felt to love you.