An open letter to the boy who played me:
You started off as just another kid that I passed in the halls unknowingly. Then you became one of my brothers best friends. Afterwards, we got closer and we started talking more and more. I started to have feelings for you, but kept them to myself not knowing how you felt.
After a few weeks you started dropping hints. We flirted, laughed, spent a lot of time together (I even cancelled plans for you), and we were hitting it off very well. Or so I thought.
Your texts suddenly got less and less frequent. You started ignoring my messages unless they were beneficial to you. I was now starting all of our conversations, if we had one. I stopped initiating conversations as often and then not at all. We haven't talked since then.
I started to realize that you never meant any of it. You were playing me the entire time and I never saw any of it until it was too late.
As I sit here writing this, I still wonder what was going through your mind all that time and why you were so okay with doing what you did. Things have changed now, though.
You taught me to not be so easily intrigued by others, to not let my guard down quickly. You taught me to be more careful with who I get involved with and who I dedicate my free-time to. You taught me that not everybody is who they say they are and will pretend to be somebody they're not just to get in your head. You taught me a lot, more than anybody ever has, but most importantly, you taught me to not open up to people that aren't planning on staying around.
