I saw you walking down the street the other day. We made eye contact and that stupid goofy grin spread across your face just like it did so often years ago. I had forgotten about you, I've forgotten almost everything about freshman year. It's hard to remember anything when most of the time all I did was sleep. I blame a lot of that on you. You knew exactly what you were doing, taking advantage of my mental instability because you were older. I thought you were brilliant, you had such a unique way of looking at things. I couldn't comprehend why an older boy would have any interest in me. You told me "life is what you make it", and I suppose I forgot that soon after we lost contact. I've been so sure that my life is what it is because of everyone around me. But it's always been me. I'm my biggest problem. I've talked to my doctor about anti depressants, and am now on them. They help a little, but I find myself wondering if I'll ever function properly without them. You didn't ruin me, but you certainly helped. You think I would have realized how psychopathetic you were after you "erased me from your memory" and then "reversed the process". When we first started talking you said such sweet things to me. I wasn't used to boys liking me, and you were a few years older, I was in heaven. You had so many mind games. You were honestly just so fucked up. My life was falling apart then, and you were no help. I'm getting closer to finding the reason I ended up where I am. Every dot connects in the worst possible way to create a picture I never wanted to see. You were part of my hell.