I never liked you.

For you, I have always felt extremes. One or the other. Never anywhere in between.

I remember going to a basketball game in late February to see you with your friends; I don’t like basketball.

Even then I didn’t like you, but charm is a wondrous thing that you are full of.

So I went to this basketball game and sat there absentmindedly as you flirted with me and held my hand for the first time.

I remember laying under the stars, cold, nervous, and giddy, grasping your hands in an attempt to feel some warmth against the bitterness of the

February wind.

Even then I didn’t like you, but I had never had a feeling so deep in my stomach as I felt when you walked me to my classes, knowing you’d be late.

So I met you at your house on February 25th wearing a dress tucked into a pair of jeans because it was too cold to wear the dress by itself.

I remember the anticipation leading up to March third, and the warning from my best friend that prompted me to ask the question that would be the

start of us.

Even then I didn’t like you, but the idea of starting something new with you was insanely intriguing.

So on March third, I asked you to be my girlfriend and our wandering truly began.

I never liked you.

For you, I have always felt extremes. One or the other. Never anywhere in between.

I remember the day you came over solely for the purpose of taking a nap with me because I was tired.

Even then I didn’t like you because that is the day that I understood that what I felt for you was nothing less than love.

So I held you tighter than I had before because love meant dependency, whether I liked the idea or not, and the thought of ever losing you was

becoming more painful every single day.

I remember going to Pride with you in early June and finally understanding what a home really feels like.

Even then I didn’t like you; I was head over heels in love with not only you but the sense of community I found for the first time with you.

So I watched some girl serenade her girlfriend and made a promise to myself that someday that would be us.

I remember feeling more contentment than I had ever felt being in a world full of flowers and you.

Even then I didn’t like you; I loved you as if you were one of the thousands of flowers in the entire arboretum.

So I took pictures of you and held your hand through the rain in a garden full of people, even though you were the only one I could see.

I remember the last good day; I remember your head on my shoulder with High School Musical playing.

Even then I didn’t like you, instead, I was so madly and blindly in love with you that I couldn’t feel the distance of your heart and mind.

So I fell asleep on your chest with a full heart while waiting for Chinese food.

I never liked you.

For you, I have always felt extremes. One or the other. Never anywhere in between.

I remember the night I found out that your heart was no longer in it the way mine was.

I really didn’t like you while tears poured down my face like the rain we used to listen to and a thunderstorm took place within my chest.

So I said hurtful words and lashed out in order to try and make you feel a fraction of what I was feeling.

I remember seeing you with her on stage and breaking out into sobs in the audience like a dog made to stay outside of the house.

Even then I didn’t like you; my heart ached for you, for us, and what my consistent pain meant for our relationship.

So the day after seeing you together on stage I ended things to “give us time” in hopes that 3 days without me would break your heart and make you

want me once again.

I remember the day that I knew the hope for us, for me, was gone; when you no longer treated me as the girl you wrote letters to out of pure and

unfiltered love.

Even then I didn’t like you, for the first time in my life I understood how deep heartbreak really hurts.

So I wilted like the single yellow rose you gave me all those months ago.

Now we are here and you have never been farther away, not even when one of us was in Texas and the other was in New York.

I’m sorry that I never liked you.

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