I'm still having dreams with you in them. They feel so real. I feel like you're actually there and I can't breathe properly. My heart stops beating and I break out in sweat and wake up.

All I want to do is to forget you, not as a friend but as whatever we were. I can't even define us as boyfriend-girlfriend because we never were. It would be inappropriate for me to label us that. Were we just seeing each other? So like we were two people interested in each other? Can I even say you were interested in me? Am I even allowed the privilege to say that? You said what we had was more serious than what you had with actual relationships with your ex-girlfriends but what does that even mean? Did it mean I made you feel trapped and forced you to feel as if you had a position of responsibility? One that pitied me so you felt you had to reciprocate how I was towards you?

Even until now I still don't know what we were. We were together but not. This is what fucks me up. You never asked me to be yours. We didn't have boundaries. I could only pray that you wouldn't chat up girls but honestly, I think you did. I must have been your backup for when you couldn't pull. It explains why you were so cold one day, then so lovely another. The way the boys would ask me how we were. Obviously I was oblivious to something, like they were asking to check if I was okay. The way F and C used to always tell me to move on and why I even liked you. It's like they were trying to let me down gently, warning me that you weren't what I thought you were. They never said why but they'd reason it to how you were a stoner and I'm just a little girl in their hearts. Does that mean you were using me? I also used to feel so embarrassed when everyone used to ask me if I had spoken to you; I was embarrassed because I had to tell them you don't actually speak to me as much as they thought. It was the sad reality and left me speechless.

But then you gave me that glimmer of hope which made me put all my doubts aside. Like when I ran away from you at Tescos, you asked G why I ran away when you were drunk. Like the time when I ran away from the booked library room shaking because you had specifically looked at me and said how there was not enough room and how it was so cramped, you then left the room feeling guilty, saying you felt bad and how you shouldn't be there, then H came to check up on me after he had seen you. Like the time we were fighting through messages and I told you to not be so careful around me and treat me differently as it made me feel more awkward, but then you said you still cared about me even after what happened. So I bitched back that you shouldn't because you didn't like me so it should be easier for you to get over me. You didn't reply after that and when you saw me, you told me you were sorry and that you thought you were over me, but you weren't.

Then the way you tell me you enjoy my company and that you've missed me. The way you said that we couldn't have been just friends because friends don't just lie in bed, talking until the sun comes up, holding hands and kissing. Friends don't treat each other the way we do. The way you used to tell me to stay and just hang out with you. The way we used to spend more time together than you did with your housemates. The way you used to let me win in an argument, even when I was blatantly in the wrong because you could see that I wasn't going to give up and was getting upset. The way you would always try to feed me when you could hear my stomach rumble. The time I was upset and made you feed me strawberries. Then how you let me stay around and sleep in your bed whilst you slept on the floor, even when I refused to talk to you about what happened. The way you would randomly pop by to say hello. The way you would teach me things I would always say I couldn't do...

What do you expect me to do? Just get over you just like that? You just left the country. You just left. And nothing since then. Three fucking months I've been trying to get over you. But I can't. You told me when we were arguing that you'd spend nights lying on your bed thinking about us, trying to figure us out and now the tables have turned. I cry myself to sleep because I can't get my thoughts straight. I can't think of a reason why I shouldn't like you. There isn't one because I can forgive you. Because I still like you. So three months on, the feelings I have for you have become less strong, but I know I'll always have feelings for you. It's such a big joke. You left the country selfishly and you left all your problems behind, including me. So I have to deal with your mess. I have to go pick up the broken pieces myself. I have to mend this fucking hole I have in my heart myself. I have to try and leave you behind when all my eyes look for, is you.