Hurting makes no sense. You can remember everything for what it was, and that can hurt, or you can remember it for what it wasn't and that can hurt.

Memories are fickle things. I remember crying, and I remember laughing. But, I do not remember the happiness I felt with you there. I do not remember feeling loved, or wanted. It was like I existed and that was all.

But in your memories, there is a different story. The story is about how great you were. How much we took you for granted. How you were the best thing that happened to us, to me.

But, if I took you for granted why was I always crying when you forgot about me, when I was the last person to know the important things. If I took you for granted how come I became the most hurt by everything that happened after.

I guess this is the after. Right now, with me on my birthday crying because you still have everything important to me. And there's nothing I can do about it. I can't just get over myself. I can't just pretend I'm not hurt. I'm all alone, but I still remember for your birthday I gave you a party. I gave you friends. I gave you happiness. And yet, you took all of that away from me.

Memories really are strange things, because I can see all the things you do, I see right through your lies. I remember them. But everyone else cannot. They give you a second chance. Then a third chance, and a forth. And suddenly everything become my fault. But, we both know who has the better memory. And we both know who lies.

Someday maybe these memories won't hurt. And someday maybe everyone will see what really happened. But that is not today, all I have is hurt and loneliness.