I've grown to love your disappearing acts.

Do one more, pretty please.

Maybe you bother me a little more than you should. But you need to understand some things before you go expecting us to be okay. You came around during the best time of my life. Everything was falling perfectly into place, and I felt the best I ever had. You took the place of someone who might not have walked away so easily. But I picked you, and accepted whatever was to come next. I heard every word you said to her, everything you couldn’t get yourself to admit to me. And, it made the best ending to the best birthday. You don’t even know.
But just when everything started to not be so perfect anymore, neither were you. When little things that had fallen into place started to shift, you walked away with them. And you denied everything. Everything you’d told her when you didn’t know I could hear. And I was mad; I was hurt.
But I got over you. I was hurt for a while. I won’t deny that; everyone knew. What they didn’t know was how long I stayed mad at you. For leading me on, for lying. About what, I don’t know. When your stories clash so much it’s hard to tell what’s the truth, if anything at all. All the times you held my hand or hugged me goodnight or put your arm around me, every time you begged me to come to your stupid race or ran to meet up with us. I don’t know if any of it really meant anything, because you’ve told so many lies already. And now, you throw a girlfriend in there? If you’d had a girlfriend the whole time, why didn’t any of us know, especially your best friend? And how, not long after, were you ready to ask out another girl?
I don’t understand you, and I think that bothers me. Because I can not imagine, with any extent of thinking or creativity, what could possibly have been going through your mind while you pulled all this off. And I don’t know what’s true. About my own summer, my own story, my own life. I have no way of knowing what was real and what wasn’t, because I don’t know how or why or when to trust you. Nothing you say is true.
After you disappeared, I was mad. But after awhile, I got over it. I don’t know how, but I did. I stopped thinking about you completely. I wasn’t mad anymore. I wasn’t hurt. Out of sight, out of mind, finally. I thought your part in my life was over and that I wouldn’t have to deal with you or your bullshit anymore. And then you called.
“Hey, Laura, what’s up man, it’s Chris. Uh, I haven’t seen or talked to you in awhile. Um, well, my phone’s broke, but I guess when you get this, or you’ll talk to Amanda. Um, well, gimme a call back cause I wanna talk to you, um, about some stuff. Alright, uh, talk to you later. Bye.”
When I called back, I expected to hear her on the other end answering. But no, it was you. The first time I’d heard from you or spoke to you in three months. And there it was. I couldn’t just forget you now. You’re back.
And now I’m trying. I’m going to forget you. But now, the whole process I went through, hurt, upset, confused, mad, I have to go through it all again, just when I finally got through it. Eventually, I’ll forget you again. But now that you’re back, it might take longer. I don’t think I can handle that right now.

No, I don’t want to talk.
No, I don’t want to hang out.
No, I don’t forgive you.
Don’t be surprised if we never talk again.
Don’t be surprised if you never see me again.
Because at this point, that would be a wish come true for me.