"What do you think?"

What do you think of me?

 

When I yelled at you and stormed off in a rage, did you think I was overreacting?

 

When I bawled that afternoon in class as you tried to explain yourself, (in vain, I might add), did you think I was a sentimental baby?

 

When I walked out of your life forever, never to return, did you think I was worth chasing after?

 

What did I think of you?

 

When you told me what you did, and tried to brush it off like it was nothing, did I really believe you thought it was nothing?

 

When you gave me those pathetic excuses and apologies, did I ever even consider that you might be sorry?

 

When I left you, left you to live your life without me, did I want you to chase me; or did I just want you to want to chase me?

 

What do you think when you see me?

 

Do you remember me fondly, or with disgust?

 

Do you regret losing me, or are you glad you got rid of me?

 

Do you miss me, or do you care?

 

What do I think when I see you?

 

Do I remember the good times, or does my mind dwell on the events that sent us up in flames?

 

Do I regret the decision I made, or am I perfectly happy with the way my life turned out?

 

Do I even care?

 

Because even though I feel a now familiar pang whenever I see you, I am repulsed by every word you say.

 

And even though I haven't forgotten you, I often forget to remember you.

 

And although I'm afraid you'll never speak to me again, I'm pretty sure I'm better off that way.

 

So, I guess, in the end, I really don't care that you don't care.

 

 

Author's Note

OK, this is only my second draft of this thing, so I'm open to any suggestions.