I don’t feel like a sophomore anymore. I got over the feeling of being younger than everyone, having friends from last year, falling under the impression that everyone else was older than me. For the first time in a long time, I don’t like you anymore. Probably the only reason why I felt like a sophomore was because you and I were really close during that year—could you believe that was last year?—but we’re not anymore. Yes, we’re still friends, but not the way we were before. Because before, I liked you, and you liked me.

I lost my chances long time ago, but I couldn’t help but want to go back and fix it. I kept making false scenarios where you and I could be together, for you to look up at me the way I look up at you—for me to be a part of your crazy world again—but none of that was real. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I just said, “Yes, I’ll go with you.” But it’s too late for that now, isn’t it? It took a while for me to recover, but I’m back again. I don’t feel like a sophomore anymore.

I feel like I’m a junior. I feel like I’m finally over you.

Today I woke up with you in my head, but no longer in my heart. I thought of you—of course, I did—but the thought of you didn’t make my heart go aflutter. Instead, you were in there, a memory of last year, finally gone into the winds of time like you should have long time ago. You have someone, and I’m falling for someone else.

But there’s a part of me—a very small one, but a part of me nonetheless—that makes me think that you still feel for me. I’ll shrug it off this time, and other times when it recurs, for I know that this is the end of it. From the briefness and “rehearsedness” of your words, I know it means nothing to you now. So, good-bye, dear crush, I’ll miss you, and here comes your replacements: your “Can we just be friends?” and my “Of course we can.”

And now, the replacement in my heart is another guy. You know him. But please don’t tell me—don’t change your heart—when you find that each second, I fall for him faster than I fell for you. Don’t tell me you love me when you so clearly did not in your letter.

Don’t regret your decision, because I won’t regret mine.

And now I feel like a real junior. Everything about sophomore year—the friends I made, the laughs I shared, the crush I had—has come to pass. I’ll miss it, but I won’t live in it anymore. Finally.

It sucks how the only reason why we never were was because you are in the closet. Oh, well. You made your choice: Your pride is more important to you than I am. But it's okay; I'm finally over it.