It’s funny actually. How much we used to talk about how I could never hate you and how I loved you but I guess I was wrong, hell we were both wrong. You promised you would never lie to me and yet here we are, in the aftermath of lies after lies.
I thought I was in love with you, no actually, I know I was in love with you. For the first time, I found myself thinking “Hey, I might actually marry this guy.” “Damn, I love him.” This guy who would hold my hand and let me cry in his shoulder. The guy who told me he loved me and made me feel beautiful or sexy even.
You were this ray of sunshine that came when I was honestly ready for a new beginning, I had finally finished my first novel and I was ready to go back into the dating pool. When you came, it was like some fucking angel gave me a gift and that I had finally found the love of my life.
We were amazing and I was so, so in love with you.
It all went down though. It went down from the moment of our five month and honestly, that day probably should have been the end for us. Words you had said that night would go over my head for the following month and as much as I tried to deny that our relationship had changed, it had.
I remember there being a point after that where I was crying really hard because I had realized there was a change. You wouldn’t say “I love you” first, you didn’t want to talk anymore, you didn’t try to talk to me anymore when you were out doing things, you forgot about me more often. I had become last priority and I don’t care if that makes me selfish for saying it because it was true. We had barely talked but every time we were together, it wouldn’t be talking that was happening, it was this stupid, mind blowing kissing.
What pisses me off, what truly, truly pisses me off though. I wouldn’t be bothered by the break up if none of this happened, if you had stopped talking about the future or something but you didn’t. Only four hours before the beginning of our break up was this stupid promise that we could figure things out.
You lied to me from the moment you stopped caring about me when you were away from me and you stopped believing in us, every single thing after that was a lie. Maybe it was a lie to the both of us but it was a fucking lie.
But hell, even at that point of my crying about how worried I was about us, no you didn’t fucking tell me then when you already knew how you felt. You wanted to get in one last make out session and what’s hilarious that you recreated every little thing we used to do.
You held my hand in the car for the FIRST time since you had gotten your new precious fucking ruby red Ford. You let me lay in your shoulders, we recreated all of our usual make out poses, we made food while I sat down on your stupid fucking floor. We tried to see a movie.
You knew that our six month wouldn’t come, I don’t care what you say. You knew. You knew that there was no way in hell we would make it out of that stupid conversation.
But you weren’t even respectable enough to at least have given me dignity. You let me THINK WE WERE OKAY. You let me think we were happy and in love. You let me cry about how I didn’t think we’d see each other at RCC because you would ONCE AGAIN PUT ME AT LAST PRIORITY. YOU LET ME THINK WE WERE OKAY.
When we weren’t, we were so far from okay because you no longer loved. You no longer wanted the best for me. You no longer believed in us. You lied to me just so you could get some make out session that makes me sick to the stomach now.
Everything from our five month on (because math would say was that was around the time it started) was a lie and I want to stab you or punch you repeatedly because you didn’t tell me. You let me go on for weeks thinking we were okay when you knew we weren’t.
You let me say “I love you” and you said “I love you” back when you no longer felt it. You made me talk to you on that stupid fucking kayaking trip when I told you I didn’t want to because I knew we would barely talk and that I would start to feel ignored. But constantly, throughout our entire relationship, my heart won over my mind.
I ignored the fact that it bothered me that you called me a “weeaboo” , I ignored the fact that we barely talked, I ignored things – one after another. I ignored them until I was blue in the face and thinking I was going to drown.
But hey, at least you were respectable enough to not lead me on for longer than a month, right?
So honestly, I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want any of our memories because honestly, they just feel tainted because you hurt me. I was in love with you and instead of you talking to me about it the minute it started, you continued to lead me.
So I want you to live a happy life, I want you to have children and find love and get married and go to your precious school and live your precious life. Because you weren’t telling the truth when you were talking about not wanting me to move around with you, you just didn’t want to move around with me. Because you were pretending that you still loved me. At one point, the “love” you felt for me just became lust. Maybe that was all it ever was, who the fuck knows. I know I won’t because we will never talk about it. I never, ever want to know.
So you’re coming to RCC which honestly, the fact that our schedules don’t coordinate just became the best fucking thing ever because I don’t want to see your face. Just the thought of you makes me want to punch you so I can’t imagine what seeing you would feel like.
I am nothing to you. You have no right to look at me, no right to compliment me or talk to me, or try to befriend me. You have no right to even acknowledge me. You lost all rights, not because you broke up with me but because you lead me on for a fucking month.
And by the way, indirectly tweeting about me? Seriously? Do you realize how fucked up that is? And unfollowing me? Fine, we broke up but you’re so fucking low to indirectly tweet about me after you unfollowed me. Ex, remember that you were the one who broke up with me.
As for as your friends, they were and are amazing people. I wish nothing but happiness for them and that they live a good life. I would even like to continue being friends with some of them but I doubt that will happen because it’s not right. But I need you to do me one last fucking favor, please don’t let them hate me.
I am strong and I am beautiful and I don’t need you to remind me of that and I do not need you in my life and I want more than ever to prove that. A part of me, a part so selfish, wants you to regret ever breaking up with me.
Please remember that I am a writer and unlike some self absorbed part of you that would think I would stop because of your sorry ass is hilarious. Writing is my life, dude. Writing will be how I get over you, hey, maybe I’ll write a new novel all about our break up or our relationship.
Who the fuck knows honestly?
I will continue writing and I will go to college and I will fall in love with somebody who doesn’t fake it for the sakes of maybe a good fuck.
But here is one tiny piece of advice, sweetheart. Think before you talk. Think about how the other will feel because yes, honesty is great but sometimes, just sometimes, it is better not to tell the truth. Sometimes, it is just adding fuel to the fire or upsetting somebody for no good fucking reason.
You were a chapter of my life but don’t you dare fucking think you will be my last chapter because surprisingly, there is a life after you. I know this because I’m living it.
So eventually I will get over you, eventually your name won’t make me feel uncontrollable anger and maybe eventually I wont freeze right at the spot that we first met and maybe at one point, I will be genuinely happy that you are living your life.
But at no point, not once, will I ever think about how it would’ve been great to marry you and bare your children. Not once will I think about what I could have done. Not once will I wish you were with me because you made your hole and now, I am going to enjoy making you live in it.
Good luck in your life (though I don’t mean it now.)
Never again will I be your Narc and never again will you be my nerd,