I don't know where to start with you. You took my heart and beat me with it. You destroyed me in every way you could possibly destroy a person. You used me and threw me away like I was just some Chicago garbage. I trusted you in every way I could have trusted you, but I guess I was stupid. I was so stupid. After realizing the feelings I had for you, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen. I was so scared of recognizing what I was feeling. I was terrified of rejection and getting hurt, with good reason. Every single time I put myself out there, I always get hurt, and end up crying into my pillow or talking to myself and screaming at the blank walls that seem to be taunting me with loneliness. I thought about it before; what I would do if this ended any other way. What if you actually loved me back? What if those feelings were returned? What if you looked into my eyes with the same desire I look into yours with? What if you saw in me a beautiful disaster, and not just a mess? I could think about it day after day. I could just sit in my bed and wonder about what 'could have been', but I'm trying so desperately not to wallow in my own self-pity. But honestly, it's so hard. It's so hard to wake up every day and look in the mirror and see the lifeless girl staring back at me. Then I would wonder if you saw the same girl. You probably did, considering you're on your way to Los Angeles and you left me here, without a single beat coming from within my heart. I know you though. I know you like the back of my hand, and you'll be back.

That's what I keep telling myself, you know? You'll read the letter again someday and realize how much thought I put into it. Maybe you'll realize that I wrote 12 different copies of it, trying to find the best way to tell you how I felt without sounding insecure or insane. I bet you laughed at it. I bet you threw it away. I don't know what to do know that everything I had my heart set on was taken away from me. You took it all away and killed it. You killed the fire in me that I needed so badly to be rekindled. It took all of my courage and strength to show you how much I love you and you just reminded me why I never should do that. You reminded me why I'm so scarred. You brought back all those horrible memories, all the memories I wanted to just die already. You're such a horrible person, but at the same time I love you all the same. I could cry myself to sleep every single night without fail over you, throw darts at posters of you, delete all your songs from my iPod, and talk bad about you to everyone I know, but it wouldn't change a thing. It wouldn't change how you feel about me, and it definitely wouldn't change that I adore you more than anything in my life. I never thought I would be in love with someone that wouldn't love me back. But you barely acknowledged my existence, and you proved to me that fame changes everybody. No matter how much people say they're the "same old" person they were years ago, they're not, and you're living proof.

You're so sweet on camera, you smile and flash your muscles and you make every girl belt with those eyes of yours; but on the inside, you must be so cold and heartless, you have to be. You didn't even call me to tell me goodbye, or even to tell me you're sorry that you don't feel the same. You just left, without a single word, and you left me wondering what you were doing. A few days passed with me passing it off like you were too busy to find time to let me know what you thought, but after seeing your Twitter and YouTube accounts, I know you had plenty of time to at least text me and say, "Hey, Alana, I don't feel the same. Sorry." You could have sent me anything! You could have even said, "I don't love you," and I would have gotten the message. But you didn't say anything. Nothing. Don't you think I deserve an explanation? Don't you think I just deserve a simple 'I'm sorry'? After everything, you're treating me like you didn't even know I was there. I must have misread all those vibes. I must have mistaken all those actions as just friendliness, or maybe you were just trying to be nice to just another fan. Well guess what? You just lost one. I know one fan doesn't mean much to you, but it means a lot to that person. You may be able to tour around the country with your fancy tour bus and your goofy friends, but one day it's not going to be enough. One day you're going to want something more than the fast life. When that day comes, I hope I won't be there.

I know it sounds mean. I know I sound like a bitch. I know I'll probably read this over in my read weeks from now and wonder why the hell I wrote this so harshly, but as of right now, I need to get these feelings out. You should be reading this, I hope you do. Listen to me and listen good, I love you. There, I said it flat out. I will never get over all we've done, all you've said to me. Just because you could have any girl you want, doesn't mean you should lead them all on just to crush them in the end. Do you do this to all the girls you meet when you travel around? Flash that beautiful smile and then break their hearts right before you leave so you won't have to deal with them again? What you're doing is more than hurting me, it's killing me. I can't believe I let myself get in this deep. I can't believe I let you control my life for this long, even if it was only a short time for you, it felt like an eternity for me. You can't just sweep into someone's life on your white horse and sweet talk them into thinking you're a legit person and then leave without a trace. You can't just leave me here. Why did you leave me here? Why can't I get over you? To normal people, it would be easy, so easy. They would just say to themselves, "They left, so now it's time to move on", so why is that so hard for me to do?

Every time I go to sleep, all I see is your face. Today I fell asleep laying on my bed, and I was in a room with you and your friend, and she left to get you a drink, and you looked up at me with those big puppy dog eyes and said, "Alana, you're beautiful." Then for a second, I believed it. Just for a second, I thought of myself as beautiful, because you saw me that way. But then the phone rang, and I woke up, right before you could say anything else. I hate it when that happens. So why is my dream version of you better than what you've shown me as the real you? Is it because nothing we see can be truly real anymore? Are we all being misled by interviews and seemingly sweet tweets and precious songs about loving a girl and treating her right? What if everything your fans believe in is just a lie? What if as soon as you turn off the camera, you're a jerk with an ice cold soul? I wonder what your fans would think if they all knew you did this to me. I'd like to think some of them would wonder why you couldn't simply tell me you didn't feel the same way, instead of lying to my face or being so nice to me.

But why am I still complaining about this? What about all the good stuff? All the times you smiled at me and blushed when your friend would comment on how you're staring at me for a crazy long time, or how you'd ask my opinion on things and really seem to care, what happened to that? What happened to that guy that I hugged, the guy that gave me butterflies and made me feel like I was floating on a cloud? Why did it feel like as it grew closer to when you were going to leave, you grew more and more distant from me? Why did you turn colder and colder and your replies to my texts kept getting shorter and shorter? Just tell me, why you had to take my heart with you when you left. I feel lifeless now, just dead; like all the life is sucked out of my body. I blame it on you and this summer. If I never went to that concert, maybe I wouldn't feel this way. Maybe if I didn't go I wouldn't feel like someone just punched me in the chest. I could bitch and moan forever on how much I hate you right now, but I can't keep doing that. I can't keep pretending that if you disappeared right now, I wouldn't care, because I would.

I love you so much. Too much. I can't just wake up every morning and go about my day normally without having you come into my head so many times. Sometimes I'll find myself just sitting around, smiling like an idiot, and completely forgetting that I'm supposed to be hating you. Maybe it's because I don't hate you. Maybe I'm just mad because things didn't work out the way I wanted them. Maybe I just hate myself for letting myself think that you could ever see something in me, and I'm just fooling myself into thinking you ever felt something for me. Maybe I'm just blaming it all on you because it's easier than accepting that I'm a stupid idiot. I am, aren't I? How could I let you in like that? How could I trust myself like that? It'll never change though, no matter how much I wish it would. I wish you would come back here and tell me you love me. I wake up every morning, hoping to see a text from you or a voicemail. Something. But the longer I hold onto that dream, the longer I'm keeping myself heartbroken. But it all remains the same, because I know you. I know one thing for sure.

If I died, you wouldn't even care.