I still remember when you first ever acknowledged me. It was my senior year of high school. It’s crazy to think that was nearly five years ago now. I still have the blue eyes you thought were so pretty. I still remember going over to your house that Saturday after we talked nearly all night the Friday before. I still remember meeting your mom and her boyfriend. I know, he’s an asshole. I thought so back then and I still do now. I knew your family life was horrible, but I didn’t care. I knew you struggled with your own demons and you took out your pain on your own skin. I didn’t care about that either. I liked you for who you were. I think you genuinely liked me for who I was too. At least at the time you did.

Even though I don’t like to admit it, I loved the time we got to spend together alone in those early days. I liked cuddling. It took away the tension I was feeling. I still laugh at how stupid I was for not taking the hint when you showed me the tin full of condoms under your bed. I really enjoyed the playful Sharpie fight we had after that. I enjoyed playing that awful Shrek game in your kitchen. I appreciate the fact that you tried to force me to eat after I had gone nearly a full week without any food entering my mouth. I just wasn’t ready to change at that point, I guess...

I’m not even sure what changed. I know I was getting more depressed and even if it didn’t seem like it at the time, you really did help me. I know you were going through a lot in your life. You couldn’t get your mom to let you stay in therapy. You were trying to get that stupid job at McDonalds. I don’t even think you truly wanted it. You wanted to get away from your house as much as possible and I don’t blame you for that. I know you were chasing multiple different guys.

I know you told me that you liked me, but you liked that other guy a lot more than me, so I just had to wait.

I realize now just how much you dragged me along, and I forgive you for it because I let you. I didn’t know any different at the time though. I was depressed and just wanted attention from someone. You were that someone and I didn’t want to let it go.

Things slowly started getting more and more toxic. You began to convince me that the feelings of worthlessness that I was feeling were real. You told me I was no good. You told me that maybe I was right about it all. You told me that maybe no one wanted to be my friend.

That shit hurt the most.

But we continued on as “friends.” We kept going for a while and I kept slipping deeper and deeper into the depressive pit I was in and you did nothing to help it. You only hurt it.

When you sent me that picture of your arm all bleeding. When you said how much you wanted to die, I knew what I had to do. Even though I never told you directly, I was the one who reported it to the school. I’m sorry that your mom punished you for reaching out for help. I know I did the right thing, but I also hurt myself immensely by doing so.

I understand why you stopped talking to me. I understand why blocked me on all forms of social media possible. You wanted to direct your anger towards someone, and I was the easiest target. So that’s what you did. You did what you thought you had to do at the time to make yourself feel better.

What you don’t realize is that you broke me. Shattered me into a million pieces. I don’t even know how many times I sit in a classroom crying at my desk because I couldn’t deal with the emotions I was feeling. It was more times than I can count on my two hands, though. You caused me to self harm for the first and only two times I have ever, and will ever, in my life. I guess the one thing I can thank you for is for breaking me enough so that I decided to seek out help in the form of medication. It helped me get through the last couple months I had to endure of seeing you every single day. Of sitting next to you for over an hour every single day. It didn’t help right away though and I still suffered. You didn’t though. At least not from that. I almost think you enjoyed it. That makes me sick to this day.

You know I still have a recurring dream about you? I wouldn’t call it a nightmare, but I wake up shaking every single time it happens. You sit at the top of a really long rope ladder. I’m always trying to climb up it. You never let me reach the top. You always block me and tell me no. You knew I was scared of heights too.

I bring all this up because I was forced to be reminded of it all.

Sitting in bed swiping through Bumble as I often do, and your profile comes up. I froze for what seemed like forever. I thought you left the area when you had your daughter. I guess you came back. I sure hope you don’t treat her like your mom treated you. I hope you became a better person from the experience and didn’t get bitter from it. But while I was frozen, looking at your eyes once again, all these memories rushed back through my head. That anxiety filled me again. All the pain you caused me, I felt it again. Part of me still hates you for it too.

But for some reason, I swiped right...