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Minus Two

I remember so clearly the first time I saw you, 

proudly, confidently striding through the classroom. 

yet sitting quietly and minding your own business as usual.


At that moment I hated absolutely the idea of you. 

To me, you were the epitome of a privileged life. 

 

I imagined the wonderful childhood you had 

with happy confident parents who praised you and gave you all that you needed.

 

You later came to speak to me and introduced yourself.  

I felt so beneath you and insecure. 

 

How could I possibly live in a world with people as happy, confident, and secure?

 

I resented what you stood for. 

But over time, I started noticing you looking at me, 

 

your eye-catching mine, and lingering for too long.

At first, I thought I had imagined it and that it was all in my head. 

 

But then I found myself starting to, seek you out, 

stay back at the canteen if I thought you might be there.

 

 

Time moves on,years pass and I still can't talk to you properly,nor can you to me. 

We both mutter awkward phrases, blood rushing, 

 

dilated eyes, nervous energy electrifying the air. 

We both knew.

 

But I didn't want to date anyone from my class again, too messy. 

Besides I hate myself, how could anyone like me? 

My enriched loneliness, the dark brown skin beneath my eyes, 

my disheveled appearance, my baggage, my insecurities. 

 

I could hardly look anyone in the eye.

But you showed me you liked me even so, 

and in no uncertain terms. 

 

You grew brave and flirted, 

I flirted back. 

 

You eventually asked me for a coffee.

I said no, I didn't know what having coffee meant.

 

But I pined for you and grew to love you. I loved the idea of you.

You flirted, I flirted. But I never asked you out or showed much interest and neither did you, except to have your ego boosted it seemed.

 

I dated other girls. All both of them. Each time I compared them to you. 

Each intimate moment I thought of you which wasn't just unfair but cruel

 

In each lonely, unhappy instance in my life, my mind raced to you.

My thoughts of you made me feel so alive for the first time in so so long.

 

My love for you amplified, but you have to go now. 

I have to let you go, I have to let you let me go, 

 

I must stop this, I can't continue, the pain is too much to bear.

What do I love about you? 

 

I don't even know you.

First, you hated me for what you thought I stood for, 

and then You loved me for how you thought I could save You.

 

I used your body as my vessel 

to project every thought and desire. 

 

I throw at you all of my frustrations

a cry for help from the abyss at you. 

 

If I'm completely honest, at times, 

I found you irritating and not even very attractive.

 

So I write this to let go of you. 

Not you, because it was never about you. 

 

I'm choosing to let go of what you represent to me. 

You're not my girl, I could never have saved you.

 

Today I will finally detach my emotions, hopes, fears, 

comforts, and desires from the idea of you, 

 

the character I created of you in my mind and used.

I'm done. 

 

I deserve love, and I deserve good things, 

I am worthy of a good life and happiness. 

 

I have so much love to give, 

and I will give it to someone 

 

who wants my open, ready heart, 

and I will have it all. 

 

But not with you.

Never with you.

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