Deleted Messages I Never Sent

1:34 a.m.
You know that's pretty shitty. I know you asked me if I was okay, and I know I said yes, but the fact of the matter is that I'm not alright, it's not alright. In fact in hurt like hell. Why, after what I told you about me, did you do that? Why would you get me anxious over nothing? Why would you set me up for failure?

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1:55 a.m.
You know all you had to do is tell me, I wouldn't have got upset. Not as upset as you giving me hope when there was none.

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2:12 a.m.
I'm tired and I'm rambling but I remember walking up the side walk with you past the black bridge telling you that I was scared of abandonment. I was scared of people who came into my life and vanished just like that. Like it was nothing. That's why I don't let people into my life as easily as you do. I told you that it scared me more than the dark, and spiders. The thought of complete and utter aloneness made me panic more than heights did. You said I was too poetic, maybe that was the problem. So maybe I am to poetic... That still didn't constitute you making my fears a reality.

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2:40 a.m.
I've subsequently drowned out my sorrows in shitty indie music and half hearted musings in my note book after ripping out every page that had a relic of you in it. I wonder what it would be like to get drunk. To black out and forget what it was like to feel, even if it was temporary.

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3:00 a.m.
The movie was amazing by the way. It's not as jump scare like as you would enjoy. Because I know you, and know you like horror. You like being scared because it reminds you that you are alive. You said you never get scared, because your Mom was a psycho and your Grandpa was institutionalized. You said it was hard. You said you had no reason to be scared anymore.

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3:30 a.m.
You know the last time I cried over a boy it was because he was a stupid drug addict. He told me he didn't care about what I talked about. He told me I was there to satisfy his needs. I felt dirty around him, like I was holding onto the weight of the world. I try to fix people you know. But when I met you, I had nothing to fix. You were so fucking perfect and I could never thank you enough for looking at my eyes when I talked instead of my ass.

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4:00 a.m.
Fuck you. Fuck you for making promises you'd never keep. Fuck you for giving me a glimmer of hope. Fuck you for making me write shitty poetry. Fuck you for saying you'd always be there but when you learned I loved you, you refused to stay for the collateral.

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4:15 a.m.
I remember the first time I walked with you. I had just picked up books from the library when I saw you. You watched me as I weaved through the book shelves, plucking out books that made me think. Emerson... Prufrock... Plath... I carried them in my hands like children, delicate and precious. I was behind everyone else and you were the only person who gave a damn as to where I was. You told me we were similar. We were both third wheels with our heads in the clouds, then you hugged me and took every last ounce of my breath away. You were so gentle. You had won my heart.

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4:25 a.m.
The next day you hugged me again, but tighter this time. Chest to chest, arms around neck. Never in my life have I ever felt like I belonged anywhere but far away but when you wrapped your arms around me in what I mistook as loving embraces, I had never felt more at home.

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4:40 a.m.
Have you ever felt nothing? Of course you have, you told me so in our morning walks together. Complete radio silence was all I could comprehend when I saw you with her. You looked so happy... And I'm glad she gave you that. I couldn't even make myself happy, how could I be responsible over another human entity too? All I could offer were my thoughts, my words, my music and my wild dreams that matched my even wilder personality. I could only offer you the flowers I picked when I took walks through the woods. I could only offer you warm tea and senseless ramblings. I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you wanted. I'm sorry that I can't be happier.

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5:00 a.m.
Everyone's asleep and things are starting to get to me. Either from sleep deprivation or my anxieties getting to me I couldn't tell.
You told me once that I was too much of a eccentric. What does that even mean? You said I was a dreamer, and most of the time when you looked at me, I wasn't there. I was in a world of my own. A world where I could smile. But what you didn't get was that every time you spoke I listened to every little detail, from the background to your story, to the way you enunciate some words perfect and slur others.
What you didn't  get was that I go to different worlds because this one is so fucked that it's the only way to keep me sane. I always look so strong on the outside, you said. Yes, but on the inside I am typhoons. I am a hurricane and you were the only one to ever calm the storm.

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5:15 a.m.
I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me, that I love you more than I've ever loved a boy. You gave me hope. You helped me see. You made me feel alive when even when all I felt was dead inside.

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5:30 a.m.
I'm getting hysterical and tired, and my tears are starting to blur my vision and I can't breath but I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be eloquent and delicate, I'm sorry I couldn't be better, I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough, I'm sorry for loving you, when I know you don't love me.

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6:15 a.m.
Morning idiot. You missed an awesome movie and sushi. I'll see you on Wednesday morning. I hope your girlfriend is okay, and I hope you are too.

Sent