To my b-ball player;

I decided I should write you a letter to tell you how I really feel now that you've moved away and I will probably never see you again. I decided a good way to tell you how I feel would be to write a poem. Don't worry I'll explain each line in detail so you don't hurt your pretty little head, because we wouldn't want that now would we?

I hate the way you talk to me

You always thought you were better then me, just because you were smarter and less superficial, you thought it meant you could speak to me however you wished but that's not true. When you spoke down to me, when you were rude, when you told me I was pretty but that's all I'd ever be – it hurt. That's something I never told you, I was afraid you were right so I let you walk all over me, which was a mistake.

And the way you cut your hair

You said I was superficial but you always had to have the same haircut, at the beginning of each school year it had to be cut exactly the same, every year since grade nine. You had to dress the same way, you had to be cool. You had to fit in with 'your' crowd no matter what it cost you in other aspects of your life...you were the one who was superficial.

I hate the way you drive my car

You know my family has money but you also know that everything I bought, I bought with my own money, including my first car. Even with your parent's salaries they managed to buy you a land rover for your first car but I bought a beat up pick-up truck that I proudly drove to school each day but if you ever had to get in it, I'd see the look on your face. You were ashamed to be with me. You knew I was disliked and you knew that car would make it worse. The difference is I didn't care – but you did.

I hate it when you stare

You knew I was pretty, you knew I dressed nicely; you knew you were with ME. But that didn't stop you from staring at every other living, breathing thing with boob's whenever we were out. I was your girlfriend but you were constantly dreaming of someone else as if I wasn't good enough for you.

I hate your big dumb combat boots

You never wore combat boots because that wasn't cool but your Nike sneakers were just as bad. You wore them as if they made you the king when really they just made you look like a jock. I guess you got what you wanted though because the inch high spring on the back of your full support shoes made you the tallest one on your team for every picture you guys took.

And the way you read my mind

You always knew what to say to make me love you, even when I didn't want to. I could despise something you did at a party, at school, in front of your parents but as soon as you looked at me, you knew how to talk me down. As much as I wanted to stay mad at you, you always made perfect sense, a fact I wish was a lie.

I hate you so much that it makes me sick
It even makes me rhyme

You could annoy the hell out of me sometimes, enough to make me want to be violently ill but never enough that I would end it. I really hated you sometimes and at other times it got even worse but I still stayed.

I hate the way you're always right

Just like I said before, no matter how much I wanted to be mad you were always right and every argument ended with me saying I'm sorry even if I knew deep down inside that I shouldn't be. A lot of times it was true, you were right but most of the time I just said that because I knew that with you, I couldn't win.

I hate it when you lie

Tina. Tiffany. Jenna. Marie. Anne. Sarah. Jasmine. And Katie. You think I didn't know but I did. I knew about every single one of them mainly because you weren't a very good secret keeper and neither were they. We all went to the same high school, every single one of those girls was in one of my classes and I was somehow connected to them/ If you were going to cheat, you could have at least been a little more discreet.

I hate it when you make me laugh

I didn't want to have a good time with you because I knew you weren't a good person but you could always make me smile. Even the little things with you, always made me laugh. We had that hilarious spark that you only ever see in romantic comedies but we had it for real...even if it was tainted by the fact that we secretly were living separate lives.

Even worse when you make me cry

If we weren't in public, if no one was around, and if you weren't using me for sex then I was your constant punching bag. The bruises that I told my friends I got from 'being clumsy' were all from you. Something I've never told anyone because I though it made me weak but I want you to know that I have a friend here helping me write this and she always liked you because she never knew, but now she doesn't know what to think.

I hate the way you're not around

You always disappeared...to be with another girl or just to be away from me but the reason didn't matter because either way you weren't with me. Once and awhile it would have been nice to stay home and cuddle up with a movie instead of going out with friends I didn't even like because then at least you wouldn't have been able to ignore me.

And the fact that you didn't call

Not having you call started to lose it's affect after the first couple of months because I got used to it. I was no longer waiting by the phone for you to call, I was no longer waiting it my room to hear my mom call me to the phone, I tried to have my own life no matter how difficult it was.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

But I don't have to worry about dealing with you write now because your far away from me, locked up in rehab, trying to get better and I just hope it works. Because I know that if you came back to me, I'd let you. I couldn't say no because no matter how bad you are for me, how wrong you are for me, I still love you. I still care for you and I hope we can be friends when you get out and I hope you don't ask for more. Respect that our relationship wasn't a healthy one, and respect that I'm not ready for that...not yet. I hope you're doing well and I'll always love you,

Your shining star (on and off the stage).