the t w e n t y - f i f t h letter

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Dear Hunter,

I wanted to put what I had seen behind us, to bury it in the past. That's hard when you catch the boy you love more than anything making out with another girl, but I really did try. So I invited you back to my house the next day.

Everything seemed fine over text, but in person you were different. Things didn't seem right any more. I tried my best to keep up the conversation, to make things flow again like they had before, but it was like we were back to square one and you weren't even trying any more. It was like you had just given up on me, on us. You seemed so distracted all the time, and it drove me crazier as each slow and painful day passed.

When you decided it was time for you to leave later that night after having dinner and watching a movie, you told me you wouldn't be waiting for me at the entrance to school the next morning, because you weren't coming in. This was the point at which it got too much for me. I remember the tear that made its way down my face as I asked you why and you told me that it was because of me.

I tried to hug you, to comfort you. I could see the distress and hurt and agitation; it was there, behind your eyes. When my arms came into contact with your body, you pulled back your hand and hit me. Slapped me once, on the left side of my face.

You'd never hit me before. Until that point, I hadn't believed you had it in you. You acted untouchable and tough in front of others, but in reality I had come to realise you wouldn't hurt a fly. You'd told me you'd rather die than hurt me.

I cried that night until there were no tears left. After that I felt hollow, like all the life had been drained out of me leaving nothing but an empty carcass of the girl I was when we were happier.

All my love, always,
Maia.

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