Did you think I hadn't noticed?
Maybe I really am as good of a liar as you think I am if you really thought I didn't fucking notice. I noticed last November when you and her were almost all I fucking had and I couldn't get you to talk to me. I couldn't get you to text me. I tried everything, I told you when I was available, I'd drive, I'd pay, I'd do anything to talk to you.
But you weren't there. You were never there. Even when you were talking to me, you never texted unprompted. You never reached out, you never invited me somewhere just to be with me. Even when I told you, invite me places! I don't know your schedule, it's always changing, mine is always the same, fit me in wherever you like, I'll be there! ❤️ You never did. And did I complain? No. Even though I was always there for you, even though I did everything you asked, talked about my emotions when you pressed, pushing through how uncomfortable it made me, I didn't say a word.
Is that why you're mad? Because I didn't let you worry about me? Because I didn't tell you about the loneliness and the tears and the anger? Because I let you believe the pretty lie that you could never hurt me? That I was always safe?
But whatever. It only hurt when I thought about it too much. So I figured it out. By myself. I admitted the relationship was dead and gone. I mourned it by myself. I found other people when the loneliness was too much to take alone. I made up excuses for you. It wasn't your fault. You didn't know. Who could blame you? I didn't tell you.
But then. Then you send me a text at 2:00 on a Thursday when you should know I'm at work during the worst week I've had in a while telling me everything you hate about me. How you're cutting me out of your life like you haven't already done that in everything but the group chat. How you don't want to talk to me outside of polite hellos like we've been speaking regularly before.
I already mourned you. I already dealt with this. And just when I thought I was ok around it, you punched me in the gut. Because of my lies and 'fake emotions'. So I have one question.
Did you send that out of a selfish need to have your closure the way you wanted it? Even though everything I did was to make you happy, you couldn't even give me the ending you knew I would be better able to handle?
Or, even though you made me go through the uncomfortable and painful ordeal of talking about my emotions with you and trying to understand them when you know that's hard for me, you never fucking listened enough to realize this was the most devastating thing you could have sent me at one of the worst times in the week?
Or finally, did you listen enough to know exactly what to say to hurt me?
You waited months, you couldn't wait till Saturday.
I'd love to give you the benefit of the doubt, something I always did, but I don't know what to think anymore. I know that I keep flipping wildly between acceptance and wanting to take all the parts of my brain that miss you out back and have them shot. Not that I think you care. You never really did.
But who can I blame? I'm the one that taught you my emotions were below yours. You just act like it.
You don't have to be around me. But fuck you for sending that text at 2:00 on a Thursday six months after you decided to abandon me. You don't deserve the tears I've spent the last six months crying over you and you aren't owed me telling you about them.