Scarlett was mine for 3 years. Her soft caramel skin, dark haired beautiful mess was mine. Her and I go back to our early teen years. We experienced life together, the cute silly lovey-dovey tokens of affection that no real adult relationship would do. We were just kids when we started dating, but of course then it was like friends with a label. No one thought we would make it three years. We were both so polarly different. She was popular, friendly, go with the flow kind of girl. Although she was anything but easy, she consumed me. For three years she was all I wanted to think about, she was the purest air I had ever taken.
She called it off about a year and a half in. She broke me. Made me realize that losing her was the last thing I wanted. That summer I was more desperate than I had ever been to have her by my side. I would leave flowers, notes, begging her to take me back. She was cold and loved having this control over me. She strung me as long as she could until I finally gave up.
After that I would never look at her the way it was in this picture. Scarlett knew this. I had finally cut her off and any trace of us ever being more was over. I didn’t want to want her but only because I needed her. The way that I had fought for her was a once in a lifetime fight. I knew she never meant to hurt me, she was too caught up in us chasing each other that she never saw it coming. I wanted to be done and move on in a way that would make me invisible to the world, but just enough out of place for her to notice me.
Christmas time came, and it went fast and painfully. Questions of her were all that started and ended a conversation. Seeing her again after the break was a relief, she looked good, she looked like she was okay and not as broken as we both were before the break.
I would break all over again for her though.
Story by Karina Sanchez