To the Last Guy Who Broke My Heart.

Dear Eric,

I thought about you the other day and debated whether or not I should write you one of these. And then you visited the library tonight and I thought afterwards maybe you deserve one of these.

I suppose I should start off by saying you broke my heart. I think you know you did, but you probably have no idea of the extent of your actions and how they affected me. I’ve been broken hearted and depressed before, but the week after you told me you did not feel the same way I did was truly one of the saddest weeks of my life. And I realize how incredibly mopey and ridiculous that sounds now, but it’s still true.

Actually, if we trace that week back to the very moment you told me that, I can tell you now that when I read those words my stomach plummeted and I instantly started crying. And I couldn’t stop. For 4 days. 4 ridiculous, “mourning” like days. I remember going to the DIA with my mom and my art history group and feeling so depressed that it was very hard to appreciate the art in the place which is something that never happens no matter how many times I see the same paintings and sculptures.

And then the poetry began. To help myself get over you and understand that once again, I had to pick up the pieces of my poor little broken heart for the umpteenth time, I wrote poem after poem describing the how I felt. To this day, they are probably some of my favorite poems. They’re sad, but so full of emotion and feeling that I think as a neutral reader, one can feel the pain I felt then. And I am grateful to you for the pain you caused me, because I find that some of my best poetry comes out when I’m the most depressed.

But you know what, while you broke my heart (and then started dating a mutual friend – ouch) I am grateful for that experience. It propelled me into friendship with Job 1 Boss, as well as made me promise myself that I wouldn’t get that attached to someone who wouldn’t reciprocate like that again. (Although I’ve kind of dived off the deep end of that one…damnit.) The only part that still makes me a little sad is the fact that myself and others genuinely thought back then that you and I were well suited for each other. But fate (or whatever) clearly had other plans. So to each their own! I’m glad we’ve remained friends, and I’m glad I got to see you today.

Love and stuntcum,

P.S. Your hair was looking might luscious today.



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