Stop.
Stop reminding me of past conversations that only I go over a thousand times in my mind.
Stop.
Stop walking down that long, suffocating, bright corridor, making me have to see your face every day.
You make me suffer by remembering every contour, every freckle for the next forty-six minutes, praying to see it again…
Green eyes…
Those eyelashes…
Stop.
Just stop. Stop being there.
Stop making me frazzled and shake ‘til my fingertips go numb.
Stop making me stutter and turn my head every time I hear your name called.
Make the thoughts stop betraying me.
Make me stop wishing and hoping and dream and thinking and—
Take it back.
Take it all back.
Take every memory you stained my brain with back into your cold, thieving hands.
Keep them.
Share them with another naive freshman.
I want to feel whole again.
I want to stop wishing for some pathetic reason to see you to come up and to get over the fact that we will no longer talk every day.
That the last conversation we had ended with an emotionless, “Okay.”
So please, stop.
Make my mind stop wandering.
Stop creeping into my brain at night.
Remind me one last time that everything that meant the word to me is “just another girl,” for you.
Stop making me want you. All of you.
I want to smile again.
I want to smile way more than I want to be wanted.
I want to walk down those high school hallways, and even though I want to with you, I’d rather do it unafraid of rejection.
Because when you receive, you never give back and all you do is make wonder what I did wrong.
But at the same time, I want to punch you for making me care so much.
Because caring for you, did nothing for me and the scary part about that…?
Is that you knew.
I wish things were simple.
I wish high school were simple.
I wish I weren’t so easy.
I wish I weren’t so vulnerable, so easily victim to your charm.
I wish I were able to stop recalling your smile…
And how softly you spoke to me and how you can—
Stop.
I will forget you.
I will be happy and whole.
And, I have to stop letting my heart take control when I see you in that white, cramped hallway.
Because if not,
It begins again.
And I’d have to beg to you stop being simply you, once more.
So, stop…