A Secret Worth Knowing

My name is Jense.
I have a secret.
Our secret.
Sounds romantic, huh? Well. It's not.
Wanna hear? It's a secret worth knowing.
I could start from 8th grade, how he told me that I had the biggest eyes that he'd ever seen, and how I was so offended, and wore sunglasses all day, and he felt so bad, and then we became best friends that week. How he told me he liked me, even if it was just for that week.
Then I could go on from 9th grade, how I secretly still really cared for him, but my best friend liked him, so I backed off.
Or I could start from 10th grade, where he and I had our fall out time, and how he accused me of having a boyfriend. How we didn't talk half the year, but he still gave me a very nice gift and card for my birthday, after a tough break up. How we became close again.
Then again, I could start from the summer before Junior year, when he and I began to hang out quite a bit, and how that old spark that never really died out started to rekindle. How he asked me to homecoming, and held my hand. All those texts. All the nights we would just sit and talk. That cold day in February when he told me he really liked me, and had never stopped since 8th grade. He told me not to tell. How we texted constantly from that day on. The dates. Those fun, fun dates. May 15, 2009, when we had our first kiss. He told me he loved me. I told him to be careful what he said. That love was a very strong word. How we kissed more, that night at the park. Having that summer romance, that he didn't want me telling anyone about. June 15, 2009, when he kidnapped me in the rain to take me to lunch. The day we walked in the woods, and said he thought I was beautiful. How towards the end of summer, he started dating other girls, trying to make me feel jealous, because he knew he could.
Let's not forget Senior year. When I was left so confused. He told me he liked me, then ignored me for other girls. "He likes me. He says I'm special." That was the excuse. The hope. All 1st trimester that's how it was. Flirt with girls in front of me, knowing I would keep quiet. Knowing I was too afraid to speak up. New Year's Eve night, when he told me we would hang out all night, but then he ditched all of us to go to another girls house. How he slowed danced with her at the last dance when he came back. How I cried that night. I knew then I couldn't do this anymore. Stopped talking to him. Rebounded. Then, right around graduation, becoming friends again. Talking. The spark that still hasn't died rekindled again.
Summer dates.
Those texts.
"You are so extrodinarily beautiful and amazing."
"My favorite night of us was homecoming. You looked so stunningly beautiful that night. I loved dancing with you."
"Night Love."
"Night Jense."
I kept them for so long.
September 28th 2010 when he kissed me at the pillars. Told me he cared. Told me he always did and always will.
That November night, when we tried to ice skate, and he kissed me by surprise.
The last couple weeks before he was gone, playing basketball. Telling secrets. Holding hands.
The night we went sledding. He kissed me again. Held my hand.
January 1, 2011. Our last date. Before we both were to depart from the lives we have both grown up in. He kissed me. So many times. Told me he cared. Told me not to be scared. Told me I was amazing.
"I want you to know that I really cared for you and I always did."
He did all of that.
Lies.
All lies.
To you that feel like you were special to him, and thought you were "The One", I say this.
Guess what?
You ain't.
You were played. Just like me.
I don't doubt you weren't allowed to say anything either, huh?
Well. After 2 years of staying quiet, I'm opening my mouth.
And I feel a whole hell of a lot better.