I hope you never read this.
Because if and when you do… it means you still care about me.
And right now, I want to believe that you don’t.
You can’t.
Not after what you’ve done to me.
Not after what you let happen.
You promised we’d stay friends despite everything.
But then you had to fuck everything up even more for me.
How could you?
What happened to the guy that I loved?
The one that was always there for me through thick and thin?
What happened to the guy that nurtured me?
The one that always let me cry on his shoulder?
What happened to the guy that cared for me?
The one that would make me soup when I was sick?
He’s gone.
Traveling the world and meeting with his lover across the world.
The same lover who I used to call my best friend.
The same one that was fucking me behind your back.
The same one that lied to me when he said, “I love you.”
The same one that chose you over me.
And after everything you knew:
The cheating.
The lying.
The heartbreak.
The self-torture.
The agony I fucking went through.
You still stayed with him.
Forgave him.
And left me.
How dare you.
What about the time when we tried to make amends?
That time we actually went to lunch after a few months of silence.
It was the day you told me that you were going to see your boyfriend in Finland.
Your parents had just helped you buy a plane ticket for your birthday to go visit him.
It was also the same day that I thought you needed to know the truth before you saw someone you thought you knew.
I told you the truth about this boy we shared feelings for.
I confessed what was going on behind locked doors between he and I.
You were shocked at the news.
I kept it from you for three months.
But to my surprise, you weren’t mad at me.
You were mad at him.
Your boyfriend of one month.
You started backtracking all the fits, tantrums, and arguments we had.
“It all makes sense now,” you said. “I am so sorry that you had to go through that. None of that was fair to you. And I can’t believe he asked you to keep those secrets from me. I kept asking him if you two were doing things behind my back. He’d always say no. I guess I was just asking the wrong person. I should’ve asked you. I can’t imagine what I would’ve done. I’m so sorry.”
To which I replied, “It’s okay. I’ve had worst days.”
I turned over to you and looked at you.
You started to cry.
Not just cry though, but bawl and sob.
“What? Why are you crying?” I asked.
“Because that is so sad! Just knowing that you’ve had worse days. That’s just so sad.”
I looked down at my cold shaking hands.
I couldn’t look at you cry, because I just would’ve wanted to cry with you.
Instead I listened to your sobs.
The night went on.
You told me more stories about yourself of the past three months.
I told you mine.
You slept over.
We had fun.
You woke up, finally calm.
Said to me, “I’m going to forgive him.”
Got dressed.
And walked away.
You two have been together since February.
You even traveled across the world in May to visit him and stayed until August.
Congratulations.
You’re dating a lying, cheating, asshole.
The worst thing of all that haunts me the most, is the thought of you being a better person to him.
No violence.
No verbal abuse.
No intentional arguments.
No getting-under-my-skin-just-to-get-me-annoyed moments.
But you?
A better person?
That’s a laugh.
I know you too well.
I keep thinking that all relationships are perfect behind cute little pictures or public “I love you’s” on social media, but that’s not true.
It’s just an illusion to hide your real sorrows behind fake smiles in your happy photos.
If I want to believe that it’s true - that you’re not a better person, then why does the thought of being false scare me?
Is it because I’m a better person without you?
Because I know for a fact, that I have never been happier without you in my life.
I have evolved from my past experiences with you.
I know what I want now.
And I know what I don’t want.
I also know now that I don’t have to be treated by anyone else like the way you treated me.
You used me.
It’s not what I deserved.
I was too good for you.
It’s been a year and a half since you and I broke up.
I was too scared to leave because I thought you were the only love I’d ever find.
But then I did find someone.
A someone with green eyes.
A someone whom gave me strength to leave you.
A someone that I fell in love with.
But then he left me too.
And I’m still trying to find ways to get over him.
You know who he is.
You know how much I cried for him.
I’ve gone on dates.
I’ve gotten drunk more times than my two hands can count.
I’ve fucked around with other boys.
I’ve gone through more heartache.
And I’ve also finally experienced what it’s like to be used just for sex.
Luckily, I’m not that easy and still leave with dignity.
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.
And to be honest, I still have days where I wake up in the morning and think, “What the fuck am I doing with my life? I’m not happy. I’m never going to find someone for me. No one is going to compare to that boy with green eyes.”
And then I think of all the shitty crap that you and your boyfriend put me through.
I just really hope I never see you again because I don’t know what I’ll do.
Just the thought of seeing you makes me want to scream and punch a wall.
You may have tried to comprehend the pain I put myself through, but you will never know the paranoia, anxiety, and torment I went through every single time I knew you two were in an empty room together.
I fucking hate you.
I hate you because if I was in your shoes, and I found out the person I thought I loved hurt you, I would never talk to them again.
I cared about you way too much to let someone like that get in between us.
But you started thinking with the head on your dick instead of the head on your neck and took him back.
I hate you because you left me at my worst.
You know how suicidal I was when you left, and you left anyway.
I hate you because you promised me we’d still be friends, yet here we are never talking again.
Actually, I think I love you for that last one.
So, thank you.
Thank you for hurting me.
Thank you for leaving me.
Thank you for breaking your promise.
Because the distance between us has never made me feel closer to home.
Have a good life,
Your Ex
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