Kellin never replied to that text I sent him on Friday, and he eventually stopped writing to me too. I guess I should've felt relieved, really, he was finally out of my hair. But all I felt was... nothing. Maybe I wasn't letting myself feel otherwise, or maybe it had meant nothing and I was just starting to realize that after all, or maybe, I was just going insane. I think I have my reasons.

He stayed "together" with Melissa, of course, and for some reason everyone thought they were the best damn thing to ever happen at school. I didn't even know, or understand, why it was the only thing everyone could talk about for days. Seeing them always made me sick either way. And I tried my best not to see them, ever. If only everyone knew the truth, they wouldn't seem too excited for the so-called perfect couple.

Anyway, I tried my best to ignore everything happening around me regarding Kellin, and instead concentrated on things that actually mattered like schoolwork, practice and planning things with my friends. But that was easier said than done. It was always in the back of my head. He was always in the back of my head. And I just wanted to understand why I felt so empty without him. Or why I couldn't get him out of my head. Or why it hurt so much just to see him or be in the same room as him.

Maybe I kind of knew the answer to all those already, but I didn't have the strength to admit it to myself. I really deserved better.

But then there were times where we would lock eyes, by accident or maybe not, and it would feel like the whole world stopped around me and there was only him and I looking at each other from across a hallway, a classroom, a soccer field. And I couldn't look away. Neither could he. And I always ended up feeling this awful tug at my chest which is why most times I was the one to look away first, to avoid feeling that.

But I think pretending was the hardest. Whenever someone talked about him around me, I had to make it as I didn't know anything, as I didn't care, as I didn't have dreams about him almost every night; that I craved being around him all day long, that I missed his voice and his annoying constant teasing and looking into those pretty blue eyes he has.

I had to pretend I barely even knew him, when I probably knew him better than anyone else.

It was killing me, and I'm sure it was killing him too. Because after everything it was impossible he didn't feel even a little bit like I was feeling. He couldn't be that stupid. He must be too scared to admit it.

Then again, so was I.

And everything was a mess.