Confessions of a regretful ex-girlfriend.

You poor darling little thing. I still remember the night I got your number. I remember it so vividly, some would think that I loved you from the start. The annoying way you would brag about your singing ability. How the entire night you refused to stop playing with my feet because you knew how much I hated it. The way your face brightened when I stood up for you when that nasty girl said you were ugly. Or when you were playing with that little boy and you kept peeking out the corner of your eye to make sure I was watching (yes, I noticed). And then the matter of a fact way that you told me you were putting your number in my phone.
When I really got to know you, you weren't cocky or annoying at all. You were nothing but sweet, kind, considerate, loving, insightful, motivated, hardworking, smart, passionate, romantic, and every other cliche that every single girl wishes to have in a boyfriend. And so naturally, I set out to make you mine, which proved to be more trouble than we thought, with the distance and all. But we got it (eventually).
8 months. I spent 8 months with the sweetest boyfriend on the planet. Granted you got jealous and insecure about the boys at my school who expressed interest, but I don't blame you for those fights. The good in our relationship can't be put onto a list without tree huggers nagging me for using to much paper. You sent me goodnight texts that would take 20 minutes to read. You kissed me in the middle of a rant to shut me up. You wanted to show me off to every friend you had. You sang me all the songs that I loved to listen to. You would talk to me on the phone at night for however long it would take me to fall asleep. You complimented me on days that I felt disgusting. You took me on the most adorable dates. You bought me stuffed animals up the wazoo. You did your best to bond with my dad (trust me I give you more credit for that effort than you may think). You even fixed me. You fixed me in so many ways, I don't think that even you can fully understand it. You absolutely transformed me. I have you and your former personality to thank for the girl I am today.
But I'm so sorry, ever so sorry. I'm sorry that I caused you to turn into the man you are at this moment. I'm perfectly aware of the fact that I took your heart and shredded it. Shredded it up into pieces so small that they are now barely visible. I'm sorry that I made you feel like the only way a girl will want to stay with you is if you act like an asshole. And even though you wont read this, I'm here to tell you that you're doing it all wrong. Sure, you'll get a few hook ups. Yea, you'll get those high school memories that you can share with your buddies in college. But I know you, the old you, the real you. And that you, he would never value a hook up over a relationship. That you would center his world around making people happy, not tearing them down. That you would be more cautious about his words because he knows that every fights battles that we know nothing about. That you would never come to my house to make an attempt at persuading me into hooking up with you, because he would respect me (or any girl) more than that. That you is the you that some wonderfully lucky girl will fall in love with. That you is the you that you should always be.
And I wish we were close enough for me to tell you this to your face, or even send you this in a text, but unfortunetly that isn't the case. And so here I am, telling everyone what I think, except the person that needs to hear it most.