You Told Me You Wouldnt Hurt Me, But In The End Thats All You Did

Sarah Diniz Outeiro

Last night a boy who I had been seeing for a couple of months told me he was done. And like with most rejections, it seemed to come out of thin air. He called me and my stomach dropped in that funny kind of way that makes you nervous and excited all at once.

He told me about his day. He asked how I was. I told him stupid little details that he probably stopped listening to after five minutes. I told him about my hand cramping up and about what I made for lunch and breakfast. I mouthed the words I miss you but it didn’t come out of my lips.

Maybe I knew all along that phone call wasn’t going to end with something that I wanted to hear.

He pauses. I hold my breath. He says he wants to talk to me about something. Something meaning he doesn’t ‘like me’ anymore. But he wants to be friends. I want to scream to him. ,  I want to shout.

And then I am holding my face away from the phone hoping he doesn’t hear my tears fall from my blurry eyes. And I don’t have any tissues, so my comforter catches the salty droplets that seem to make waves down my face.

I tell him I’m confused. What I really mean is, .

I want to show him the poems I wrote about him. I want to tell him that I listen to this one song on repeat and I think of him. I want to tell him that yes we are different, but the same. I want to tell him that he is special.

Why didn’t he think I was?

I want to tell him everything. That my heart feels like it was smashed in the concrete and stomped on and over and over. I want to tell him that I thought he was different. That I thought he’d be the one to change everything.

I just stay quiet. I let my tears free fall. My eyes are already red. My face is splotchy and burning. I’m too far gone.

I want to hiss at him. To tell him off. To tell him that he’s making a mistake. Instead I nod. Instead I say thank you. Instead I tell him all the ways he made me feel. I tell him thank you for caring about me.

But this isn’t what caring about someone is supposed to feel like. You promised you would never hurt me. You promised.

In the end, that’s all you did.

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