Dear You, 

I used to be so strong. I never cared about what people thought of me. Until you. You broke me. You broke through my barrier. We’d been dating for three days, and you’d already told me you loved me and that I was apparently “your everything.” I told you I loved you, too, cause I meant it.

But I guess you didn’t. Cause you dumped me on the third day of our relationship. You said you’re still in love with your ex. You even told me that. And you used the worst cliché ever: “It’s not you…it’s me.” I cried myself to sleep that night. That was Monday night. It is now Wednesday night. I cried myself to sleep last night, too, as I probably will tonight.

I can’t believe I let you get to me like this. It’s ridiculous, really. I see you every day and all I want to do is die. Literally. I get all hot and all the blood rushes to my face, and I start to go into panic mode and I’m worried everyone around me sees how I react. I’m so scared of how long this is going to last. Your smile, your eyes, the way you walk. It’s like a cute little shuffling. A modest little shuffle to class. I hate that I’m still wounded from you. I hate myself. It’s this prolonged sadness, and what you put me through just made everything so much fucking worse.

Sam, age 14