Ed 

Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe.
Red lips and rosy cheeks. Say you'll see me again. Even if it's just in your wildest dreams - Taylor Swift

It was time to face my demons and head back home. Radio shows were calling me – all across London, in the place I was most familiar with. I was back at the flat that was much too large for me. A place that seemed empty as soon as the door swung open and I was hit with her scent wavering in the air.

Everything was in their normal places except the air was colder and she was gone. Throwing my bag down, I recollect my time schedule and the previous fight we had here. I had an hour or less until I was expected to show up and answer the interviewer’s facetious questions about the songs he’s only heard once and about my daily life.

The Christmas lights hadn’t been taken down and still hung from the banister. My CDs were in stacks on the floor, surrounding my stereo, where she had left them. I was alone but I felt relief in the quietness of it all.

In his little carrying cage, I here Graham mew. I lean down and unzip it and he slowly walks out. Eyeing the area around him. I let him wander aimlessly, sniffing the air, when a knock on the door jolts me.

It wasn’t her, I knew that, but I grew nervous as I went towards the noise. With a deep breath and an image of her standing there, I swung the front door open. It wasn’t her, like I said, but it was another blonde.

Her name was Allison and she lived next door. “Hello, honey. I saw you scurry up here with all your bags and thought I’d pop by.”

“Hi.” I say and smile.
“Just dropping off your mail. You’ve been gone so long, I thought you’d never come back! So much mail…” She had a baby balanced on one hip and a cigarette unlit dangling from the corner of her lip. “It was overflowing every time I seen it. The stupid guy didn’t even have the curtesy of shutting the box up.” I nodded, flipping through the envelopes. Her hand touches mine and she laughs, “I didn’t read anything.”

“It’s nothing but coupon pamphlets.” I answer. “Thanks for getting it, though.”

“There’s probably more down there. Just took a few so the thing would shut!”

I say another thank you and she heads back to her place. Shutting the door behind me I throw them on the table and head to the fridge. Only thing left was milk that had expired and apple juice that was going bad. Sigh, find the loaf of bread that I left and was turning moldy, and headed for the couch.

“Want a piece?” I asked my kitten who was trying to climb up on the couch. There was about two pieces that hadn’t turned green and I took a bite.

I dug through my pocket to retrieve my ringing phone. “Hey.” I say, my mouth full and my cat meowing behind me. It was Stuart. Probably wondering if I made my flight on time.

“Hey. Just some tips for tonight…”

“I don’t need tips.”

“Don’t talk about Nina at all.”

I laugh, “No one even knew we were together, man. He’s not going to ask me about her.”

“She’s unfollowed you from all social media and deleted all of your pictures. Now I’m not saying anyone checks that shit, I’m just saying that if you say anything about her specifically, it might hint towards a relationship.”

“You know, that’s bullshit.” I tell him, taking another bite and feeling my heart jump a little nervously. “Unfollowing me? Seriously, is she fifteen again?”

“You two did break up.”

“So? It’s a fucking website. It’s not like we’re communicating on it together.”

“You used to, that’s the point. Some fans have tweeted that they want you and Nina together and some have noticed that she unfollowed you…”

“Well then I’ll unfollow her.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what the fuck are you saying?” I ask. My voice louder than expected. “Look, I’m not going to talk about her.”

“You’re the one who told me she didn’t want anyone knowing about your relationship.”

“I don’t even know why you called me. Honestly, Stu. I wasn’t planning on telling everyone about us tonight.” I say, my voice breaking slightly. “I don’t even fucking care about our break up, so talking about it won’t happen. It’s over and I don’t give a shit.”

I wet my hair in the sink to give the look that I took a shower and got dressed. I was already running late, I quickly ran down the stairs.  Catching Allison on my way out she yells after me, “Don’t forget to check your mailbox in case you have more!”

Rolling my eyes without her seeing, I wave a thank you to her and keep speed walking. Down two flights of stairs and quickly unlocking my mailbox in the lobby. Inside only one thing remained and it stood out. A white envelope with only my name scribbled on the cover.

I grabbed it quickly, stuffed it into my pocket, and jumped into the black car waiting for me outside. “Glad you finally came down.” The driver says and I laugh at his sarcasm and apologize.

The envelope weighed heavily in my pocket until I couldn’t take it. My name remained on the front, meaning someone dropped it off in my mailbox themselves. The tips were wrinkled and the blue ink was smeared.

I opened it. The envelope ripping in a way I didn’t want it to. Three pages, back and front, were inside. In small blue letters written on folded lined paper. Drops made the ink darker, wet looking, as if someone was crying while writing this.

It was Nina’s handwriting. Swirly and small and appearing weirder than I was used to when it came to her. Shyer. With optimism, I hoped for a forgiving statement about how I didn’t do anything, and read on.

Dear Ed,

All right.

Where do I start? There’s obviously a lot to say – a lot to cover. Honestly I’m not completely sure if this will be benefiting you at all. More or less, this is for me.

A letter? So stupid. Am I a child? I’m not even sure if it’s a good idea. Figuring you might read it, but I could be wrong. I was wrong about many things. It might end up thrown in the trash. I guess I’ll have to trust that you’ll pay me the last respect of hearing what my last words to you will be…

This might be one of those ‘get all your impossible, stupid, drunken feelings out’ letters. I might not send it. And if I do, I’m sorry if it’s harsh. I do. I’m drinking and pissed off.

I need to vent. Frankly, no one will listen to my anger anymore and songs are something I’ve written too much of, of late. I need another out here, Ed. A letter is the perfect thing to do.

Again, maybe I won’t send it. I might just write it for myself and keep it hidden in a drawer until I’m completely done and over it and then I’ll throw it away.

Ed, you play stupid games. Since the time I met you, it has been nothing but one big trivial match I never seem to win. I try and try to get it right but I fail in the end. Yeah, some of it was fun, but I was falling behind before we even started. Losing track of everything, anything anyone of us said before it escaped our mouths.

You don’t have to call me. Not that you did lately – and the last call I didn’t answer. No matter how much I want to hear your voice, you can just stop.

What’s so funny is, you’re not calling to get me back. And if you were, maybe I would answer. You’re only calling to apologize once again…sorry for breaking my heart. My spirit.

Ed, I’m over hearing your apologies. I am. That is one word I’ve heard come from your mouth over a million times – sorry. You don’t have to be sorry. You got what you wanted, you’re free, and it’s okay. It is fine that we’re over.

You always say the same thing. You’ll say you were wrong about how you ended things, but it’s just for the best. For the both of us. That you’re too reckless and I’m too young – too naïve. Because much like you joked on the first night, I’ll only ever be a silly business partner to you.

And now, for once, I’m glad no one knows that we were once and us. Your fans would tear me apart or the tabloids. After all, you’re the one who seems innocent. Harmless. The perfect boyfriend with the sappy love songs. How could Mr. Ed Sheeran actually break a heart in the cruelest way? How could anyone that seemed so into everything he did not even care about a relationship he tried so hard to have in the first place? How could you be so ruthless? So frustrating. So incredibly toxic.

If I wasn’t me, I would have bought it. Your little “act.” If I wouldn’t have been the one you messed with, well then I would have taken your side rather than mine.

It was as if ever string of our love was cut and broken in seconds. Stupid moments I wish I could take back. I had fallen and you had let me only to leave me. Blinded by optimism and swooning over the attention you gave me, I found myself constantly torn up about you. My whole life consumed.

Boy did you let your real colors shine through. I had you out to be the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. It was something I never thought I’d regret – our love, that is, and to this day…only a little while later…I’m still not sure if I do regret you or not.

It’s easy to sit here and describe you as such a generous, loving man. And I find myself sometimes saying this. You took me under your wing and I could never repay you obviously. But I tend to be a hypocrite.

Ed, you changed in a minute. And to be honest, I’m not completely sure if you were like this the entire time or not. I tend to be a hypocrite, like I said, and you tend to hide things underneath your mask pretty easily.

You are selfish. I’ve called you that multiple times and it must have sunken in by now, right? Because after all, you used to call me vain and now I know that’s what I am.

You are selfish, okay? That not only didn’t care about me from the start, but decided to carry me along like you had. You are nothing but a good actor. You didn’t love me. Ed, I was a rebound from your ridiculous breakup with your old flame.

I spent my nights crying after our breakup. I’ll tell myself I was fine, but am I really? My mother feels pity for me and I find her looking at me with a type of sadness as she would a dying puppy. Shaking her head slightly. I’m overly dramatic, but I can’t help it. When my friends would cry over break ups – weeks at a time – I always rolled my eyes. It was nonsense. I get it now though. Because I cry every chance I get. When I’m writing, watching television, listening to music. Tears come even when I’m on stage…

I thought you cheated on me; and maybe you didn’t, but everything fell in on us. When you wouldn’t call, I would sit on my bed and close my eyes and picture you with someone else. It was the only theory I could come up with of why we were ending so abruptly. I tried to trust you, but it was so damn hard when the lines were so blurry. The weeks you’d go without calling me or the months of you in some other country and away from me, it was hard not to imagine in.

You were this expert liar until I finally caught onto things. Explanations were never settled first. You were a great talker when it came to me, Ed. You’d find a loop hole out of the question I asked or other things always came first. Writing songs…tuning your guitar…the pub…your friends.

I never lied, Nina… I never lied.

That night you showed up at my door step after weeks of not speaking, I broke and forgave you. Why yell when you were back in my grasp? Obviously you had to love me to come back, right? Wrong…

Nina, I did love you.

I would have loved being a part of your life the way things should have been. Hanging out at the bars after gigs. Meeting more of your friends no matter if they were dicks to me.

And maybe you weren’t lying rather than just talking to get out of it. You needed a door and you created it with your lips.

You were my prince charming…

Imagine that…I really thought that I’d be in love with you forever. It was just a dream, I guess, of what could have been. At first, you made me feel like an actual person rather than just a paper doll or a dumb model.

You were the first man I ever fell in love with. Call yourself lucky because you will be the last for a while. Then again, don’t think too highly of yourself and stop rolling your eyes at me. I can already tell you probably are and I can hear what you would say. Thinking, “Nina, calm down. You’re extremely drunk…” I’m not going to calm down. I’m not moving about this idiotically, but I look at it as a very abstract way to react to the entire situation. Simply, I’m giving you the truth, sharing my feelings instead of lying to you and myself by saying I’m fine. Because I’m fucking not.

I was rolling my eyes at first, but I couldn’t force myself to do so now. My hand shook and the words were blurred. Nina, you don’t have to calm down now. You don’t.

It was pure luck that I even got as close as I did to you. Anyone that shocked you as much as I did with their voice, even a guy, would’ve been given the chance to tour at small venues with you. It wasn’t just my good looks, I hope, that got me the chance. (I’m being sarcastic)

I actually laughed. Her sarcasm ate away at me every time it came from her mouth in a suitable comeback.

I’m not going to say I hate you like most girls would. I’m not like most girls, but that isn’t what I’m going for here. And I’m not taking the spot where I declare that I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of saying I hate you…if that even makes sense. It’s because I honestly don’t hate you. I simply have no respect for you.

Pardon me if I use the word simply too much. Like you once said, “It’s the only word to come to my mind when I’m asked to describe how I feel.” And that’s right. Simple. It’s devastating but simple.

Oh, God. I feel like I’m writing a term paper. This thing is already lengthy, but fuck it. I need you to hear me out. Read everything drunken Nina just has to say.

Everyone said we rushed things and they were right. We went from meeting to dating in a month. But that happens with young love, right? You rush. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I get it. And that’s exactly what we did.

We had no foundation, no groundwork. How are two travelers supposed to coexist together when seeing each other was hopeless? It was rough.

I gave everything to you. Two days before Christmas, I gave everything to you. Your hands on my cheek, lips to mine, hearts beating as one. I relished that feeling of constant surrender. It was a beautiful, sinking release that shrunk me back to size.

Sometimes I sit on my bed and pretend I was the one who ended it. Thinking off of what the papers would have said no matter if they knew about us or not. And I’ve taken to the liberty of denying our relationship all together.

I like to imagine what it would have been like if you accused me of cheating or if you walked in on me saying I was guilted into our relationship. You crying when I said I couldn’t do it anymore. Acting as if I was the one who told you I loved you but it was never going to work with the distance. When things got too dark between us, I like to believe I drunk your love up too quickly and you were drunk on jealousy. That you were the one running off and crying to your friends about me and waiting for that phone call you were never going to get.

I would say it was all my fault…that I was annoyed. That I couldn’t handle you. Too jealous, I would say when people asked. Too clingy. Too sad. Too far away. It’s just my imagination. I’m left heartbroken and relentless and you’re just peachy.

I’m not okay, Nina. I’m sorry. I’m not okay.

Maybe you’ll keep this letter, look back at it someday, and you’ll think of me. What I’ve said and did and you’ll realize it was more than enough and you regret your decision. That while I try to blame myself for most of it by saying I pushed you away, you’ll know that’s a lie. Maybe the realization will be in a week or a month or ten years from now, but I tell you, it won’t matter.

But then again, maybe you won’t understand this letter. You seem like a man of his word, so you obviously mean what you said that night. You might read this and shred it or burn it and you’ll fly to see her instead of calling me to get me back.

I bet you’re still awake and it’s late. A cigarette between your fingers. I’m not sure if you’re back in London, but you’re probably looking out your window. Maybe you just got back from the bar or a concert. You’re shaking your head and rolling your eyes…

But here we are…I hope you read this, I do. Because Ed, I remember it all and I know you do too. Our love was rare and I pray you hold onto it forever.

Years from now, my songs won’t consist of our love anymore. Your blue eyes won’t be the only thing I envision when I close my eyes. There will be other boys to meet and more songs to write. And Ed, you won’t be the thing I’m trying to forget anymore.

I will never forget my first love and that’s okay. People rarely do. And while I was not the first girl you loved, I’m hoping I made an impact on your life and you remember me too.

Ed, I’m really glad I met you and you will forever hold a special place in my heart.

-Nina.

I stare at the pages a little while longer. The guy tells me we’re here, but I tell him to circle the block. My hands shake and I try and picture her writing this. Her own pen writing away as she sipped on wine and her eyes would be stained red with tears and only her thoughts consisted of her lack of love for me.

I take my phone out, willing to call her. To tell her I got her letter and that I was sorry again, but I knew it wouldn’t help me. None of this would go back to normal. I read what she had to say and I wouldn’t change to be the man she thought she loved in the beginning.

With a brave face, I stuff the letter in my pocket and head into the building. Pushing her into the back of my mind and ready for whatever he asked me.

A/N. 

Favorite thing I've written in a while. Love Nina and I'll miss her. Tell me what you thought in the comments. 

-Madisen

ps: my birthday is in 2 days. I'll be 16.