For four and a half years he was my world. It was one of those love/hate relationships that you always hear Pink singing about. Our song happened to be “Hot and Cold” by Katy Perry. We were one of those off again/on again relationships that people hate hearing about, but we didn’t do it all the time. We had our rocky times, and our amazing times. When we were good, we were great, and when we were bad… well, it was terrible. We shared a special connection, I will admit. We were high school sweethearts. We had our problems, just like every couple did. And we became so in sync with each others at times, while at other times we could rip each other’s head off. He was my first, with everything. However, just a mere few months ago I broke up with him, after we had gotten back together for a couple months. I needed to find me, I needed some me time and to do my own thing because I am a stubborn girl that likes to do things on my own and have my own independence. I wanted to experience life as a young girl with the world at her fingertips, not having experiences like that because I had been in a relationship for a good portion of my teen life. I broke it off badly, quickly, and didn’t really explain much of it. I just needed time to cool down and explain it to him, but he kept insisting and pressuring me about getting back together with me. I won’t bore you with those details. He never stopped being mad at me, yet at the same time he insisted he was “completely moved on” from me. We have a lot of bad communication, and I said things on my end and he said things on his end. I doubt we’ll either ever completely forgive each other, and we will never forget. He started a lot of it, calling me a (w)itch, called me disappointing, and then dirty for kissing another boy, while broken up may I add. His reasoning? He was my first kiss, so I shouldn’t have kissed another boy ever again, and that I broke our “special connection” that we had and he could never look at me the same again. However, during some of our breakups he kissed a couple girls, but it was okay because he had kissed a girl before we met so it wasn’t the same. I went off on him because when somebody attacks my character and says things like that to me, the sweetest person you will ever meet can turn their words into venom (hence my name whiskeyinateacupp). I’m realizing we’ll never have our memories feel the same way to us again, it all feels so jaded. It’s all a huge mess. So, tonight, with my emotions all amiss and feeling so broken, jaded, empty, lonely and enraged, I found a bottle of Butter Beer (from Harry Potter, for those of you who don’t know. They sell them now) that he had given me not that long ago and decided that it was time to let go. I grabbed the bottle and walked down the street. I took a deep breath, raised my hand and chucked the glass bottle into the street. And it shattered. The liquid flew across the street, as well as the glass. I could feel myself shatter with the bottle, because I just don’t know anymore. I felt a piece of glass fly towards my feet. I turned back around and quickly walked to my house, my heart pounding out of my chest. Just like the bottle, my emotions are in all different directions and even with the shatter… nothing seems resolved to me. There are so many words I can’t seem to find, no correct emotion I can grasp for… Anytime either of us try to pick up a piece of us and examine it, we both get cut by the sharp edges. It’s crazy to think in life, without a sound we could lose sight of the ground.