It hurt.

It hurt when you said all the things that you did.

It hurt and I was stupid to pretend that it didn’t.

It hurt because you changed and you were some stranger with an uncannily similar appearance to someone I once knew.

And the worst part of all is that it still hurts.

My heart drops the moment I see you. It doesn’t matter whether we are at the opposite corners of a crowded room or rushing past each other to get to class. Everything else becomes silent, and I can hear – feel – your padded footsteps pounding in my ears. And when my eyes flash to meet yours, I remember being that wounded soldier – left bare and weak on the battlefield after the bullets you shot. Your eyes bore into mine. Impassive. Cold. Unfamiliar. It’s only a millisecond, and then it flutters into a moment of phantasmagoria.

Sunny days. Soft green. Coffee banter. Warm hands. Friendship. Socks. Trust. Red. Pierce. Truth.

Sting.

Sting.

Sting.

I won’t let you win this war. Not after I’ve picked myself up and erased the seemingly indelible scars from the last. I shift my eyes carelessly from your face to the next like it makes no difference who you are and who you were. Chin up. Insouciance.

But you probably do this without a thought – without a pang shooting up from your core, don’t you? While you carry on like the damned king of the heartless, I’m learning to stride like I’m infallible. And you couldn’t care less.

No matter. You taught me what it means to be steel and indestructible.

And one day, you’ll learn how the warriors mend.