I wanted to call him, but I couldn’t. I wanted to know what he felt like, if he felt anything at all. I wanted to know if he still thought about me, because his face clouds my mind. I wanted to know what he thought about when he heard my name, if he cried himself to sleep like I do. I wanted to know if he felt knives in his sides when he hears my laugh, the way I feel when I hear his. There was so much I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t. You can’t just call someone who once held your heart in their palm. It’s not that easy anymore. I saw him at school, walking down the halls. He didn’t talk to many people. His smile didn’t seem as bright as it used to. His eyes, they seemed.. down. They weren’t sparkling with enthusiasm anymore. He glances at me a lot, in the corner of his eye. I don’t think he knows I notice. How he sits a little closer to me, the way he strikes up random conversations. I have no idea what to feel, or if I should even feel anything. I felt numb, the only time I felt my heart tug was when I thought about our last kiss. The way he buried his face in my neck, knowing what he was about to do. The way he muttered “I love you” into my chest and squeezed me. I thought he was just being cute, being apologetic for ignoring me the whole week. I knew he meant it, he couldn’t live without me. But he wanted to live, he wanted a taste of freedom. He didn’t want guilt, anymore. Although I never made him feel guilty, he felt it anyways. I held him back, he told me after I got home that monday evening. He told me he loved me, but he didn’t want to worry anymore. Worry about what, exactly? What would I do? I’ve never cheated on him. I’ve never lied to him. I’ve never broken my promise. Why was he worrying? He said he wanted to stop hurting me, everything he did hurt me, he said. It wasn’t a lie, he hurt me a lot. He ignored me, that hurt. He’d sleep over our plans to hangout, that hurt. You’re supposed to break up with someone because you don’t love them, not because you love them too much. I wanted him back, but it’s not that easy. I felt as though I was on a carousel, going round and round. Reliving everything, we’d date for 3 months, then break up. Date, then break up. 3 whole years we’ve been going back and forth. I thought this time was serious, though. We took our feelings so seriously. We gave each other everything, our hearts were sewn together. Our virginities were intertwined, just like our fingers when we held hands. I knew he loved me, he still does. But he’s damaged, he’s a damaged good that I tried to fix instead of sending it back to the market to have someone else take care of it. How do you forget things? How do you forget birthdays, favorite foods, favorite books? How can you look at things and somehow the thing you’re looking at reminds you of him? It could be a trashcan, but have a purple wrapper on it. Purple is his favorite color. Or If I’m driving down the road and see a Corvette, I think of him. His dad owned a Corvette. Or if I see a little turtle waddling around, I think of him. He was my little turtle. He was so cute, and innocent, but the second something scared him, whether it be commitment or a movie, he tucked back into his shell. I’m the only person he trusted, I’m the only person in his life. His first love, his first girlfriend, his first real kiss, his first everything. He’ll never forget me, and I’m still trying to figure out if that’s for the better or worse.