To The Boy Who Said No

To the boy who said no, I hope you know you ruined my life.

I hope you know I stayed up for countless nights that blurred into one, fighting away the image of us together in my mind. I hope you know I cringe when I see a couple holding hands on the street and flinch when I see something that reminds me of you. I hope you know the heart that was so ready to be yours-- the one that would’ve beaten for you and with you -- now lays hardened on a seat of betrayal and hesitancy. I hope you know that the girl who was so ready to be yours can’t even find the strength to be her own.


To the boy who said no, everything reminds me of you.

I walk down a street that used to be yours but now represents nothing but the eyes that bore into mine as a mouth that used to sing my praise spilled the words that tore me apart. I crawl through the hallways of my chaotic brain as I dissect every conversation we exchanged, analyze every word to figure out where it went wrong, where you decided I wasn’t good enough to be yours. I run away from the memories we made, of nights spent in the bed of your truck, of days spent in a cocoon of bliss, of a little slice of life spent in your arms. I fall through a hurricane of questions with no answers and a life without you.


To the boy who said no, I’m learning to live again.

Your T-shirts lay piled up in the corner of my room, but the smell of the woods behind our house where you spent so much time has faded, along with my inability to let you go. I don’t wear them anymore, and they don’t bother me as much as they used to. One day I’ll knock on your door -- the one I used to walk through without bothering to knock -- and I’ll return every piece of you that still lays around my room, my heart, my mind. One day, I’ll leave your house feeling stronger and better than I ever was before you said no.


To the boy who said no, I’ve realized a couple things.

I’ve realized that I spent too much time wanting to be yours and not enough time trying to be mine. I’ve noticed that figuring out who I am isn’t as scary as I thought, and being alone doesn’t mean I’m lonely. I’ve realized that you had the right to change your mind, and one decision on your part doesn’t have the right to strip me of all the things I thought you took from me. I’ve realized that your eyes aren’t as blue as I made them in my mind, and you’re not as cruel as I painted you in my head. I’ve realized that everything I am continues to stand regardless of whether or not you’re by my side.


To the boy who said no, just know that I said yes.