her

And there I sat, 

with nothing but a mere laptop screen

radiating light towards my once full now empty, swollen eyes.

I tried to contain myself, but how can you?

How can you contain the anguish and despair,

the anguish and despair you feel every night you sit alone with only thoughts,

thoughts of her.

It was like she'd taken my heart upon her own sleeve,

and had intended on damaging it, damaging me.

She doesn't even know, she never will.

She'll never know how she made me feel, 

nor will she ever feel the remorse I oh so crave from her. 

"I love you", she told me

with what seemed like the most sincere and truthful voice,

but instead turned out to be most pathetic and feigned. 

She put me on a pedestal, 

a pedestal she'd always intended on shattering.

For those who can make you feel so incredible,

are also fully capable of making you feel miserable. 

Since then I feel incapable of feeling, 

incapable of acknowledging.

The worst part is that she made it seem as though it were my fault. And for that I'll never forgive her.

But I don't hate her, 

I could never hate her. 

Reviews

[Alex]

I really get the sense of bitterness in this piece, not hate as you said, but disgust that 'She' showed no remorse and, as suggested, purposely intended to do this to you. Any reader could tell this is personal just by the emotions in the words and their phrasing. I like the juxtaposing meanings behind the 'I love you', what you thought vs. the reality. The pedestal imagery struck out of the piece, it is great writing that! It makes me sad, the ending is brutally realistic- the fact we cannot hate those we want to so badly, we need to, in fact. The narrative in this is set like; A and B, that way the reader never knows what is coming next, doesn't know the 'but' is coming- I like that, it works well. Such is life eh? C'est la vie!