I can see the stains on your face from all the tears you've cried over her.
And you used to cry over me.
I see the way you look at her wistfully as she glides down the hallway (though not as gracefully as I did I might add).
And you used to look at me.
I saw the way she looked at you, and her gaze wasn't filled with nearly as much as love as the love I had for you.
The love I have for you.
I remember after I left you all you did was lock yourself in your room and cry for days on end.
Tears poured down your face and I watched with your water pooling in my own eyes because your misery absolutely broke my heart.
You don't know how many times I've wished I could come back to you, to hold you in my arms and chase all of your pain away.
You used to visit me all the time. You'd be inches in front of me, talking to me, begging me to come back to you, and you don't know how loud I was screaming YES.
I did want to come back to you, I told you so multiple times, but you could never hear me.
I told you I loved you every single day, but you never heard me.
I stand by your side every minute of every hour of every day, but you never see me.
Can't you sense me?I ask myself, but I already know the answer. You can't.
You became happier after you met her. It warmed my heart to see you with the smirk I loved back on your face. Of course I envied her, I envied her life and her rosy cheeks and her beating heart, but I knew that my envy was in vain. And I knew that my fate wasn't her fault.
It was hard for you to let go of me though, and I'm sick to say that that pleased me.
All of the things in your room gave me a sick satisfaction that I'm ashamed to even admit.
I wanted you to move on, to be happy, but at the same time I was glad that it was hard for you. Because it meant that you really did love me. You really did care about me and miss me.
She helped you clean your room, and with every piece of trash you let her throw away you threw away a part of me, just like how you had once feared.
I didn't mind that you were happy, I didn't even mind that you were in love with another girl, but I did mind that you were forgetting me.
You didn't come to visit me anymore, and I got lonely.
Then one day, months later, you did visit me.
You came to our spot, the place where we used to spend so much time together.
The place that you'd re-given to her.
You propped my picture up, and I knew you were finally going to talk to me. I was elated. Until I heard the words that came out of your mouth:
"This is all YOUR FAULT! Clare hates me because of YOU! You ruined my lifeā¦but not anymore."
And when you shot me, it hurt worse than anything I'd ever endured in any life. Because you shot me straight through the heart.
You ripped MY heart out, Eli.
And all I ever did was love you.
And now she's left you too, not in as drastic of a way as I left you, but still enough to make you curl up on your bed and weep.
And you deserve to weep. You deserve to be heartbroken.
Because I loved you Eli, and you SHOT ME.
And now I can remember why I ran away from you on my bike that night, why I died in the first place.
Because you're a monster.
You never deserved me, you never deserved her, and now you don't have either one of us.
And I can't help but smile to myself, and I don't even feel bad, not at all.
Because you shot me.
My love for you was bulletproof, but you're the one who shot me.
You don't love me, so why should I love you?
So I'm not going to love you anymore.
And that, Elijah Goldsworthy, will finally bring me peace and rest.
Something you'll never have for as long as you live and die.
