(Original post by -chiquitita)
I really can't understand now why you had such a hold over me. I used to go bright red whenever I saw you and get so excited when you acknowledged me. We started talking on msn, of all things, years ago, when I was about 14, and we exchanged words and texts until a few months ago. But stupid me didn't realize that you never admitted to anyone that we spoke, that you would never speak to me when any of your friends were around, and that everything that came out of your mouth was a lie. I thought you were so sweet, yet looking back the sweetest thing you ever said to me was that I was 'hot'. That day I went to your house and you told me not to tell anyone because you didn't want people to talk about us behind our backs - I naively thought you were being romantic and trying to keep what was between us special. But you just didn't want your friends to know because you'd be embarrassed, both because I was younger than you, and because you thought I wasn't good enough for you. Well, now I'm the one who's embarrassed, because I wasted so much time thinking about a boy who I thought was different, who seemed clever and so much more worldly than me, who told me so many times that we had something different, but all that time you were just a pretentious d*ckhead, to be honest.
You used to think you were so much better than me. But now you've dropped out of college and work in a pub, the beautiful girlfriend who I used to WISH was me has finally dumped you, and you have no future that I can see. Your best days were hanging out with the guys, where your charm got you places, made you popular despite your staggering arrogance and sleaziness. But you're going nowhere now - whereas I, I've got so much to look forward to.
When you saw me the other day, I know you were shocked. You weren't expecting that I'd be able to meet your gaze and turn away, ignoring you. And when I ignored your text that night, the first you'd sent in months, I got such a feeling of satisfaction knowing that you no longer had that compelling power over me that used to drive me to reply whether I wanted to or not.
Have a nice life.
Yours, your no longer naive ex-plaything.
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