When I saw your face the other day, I turned and walked the other way, without a second thought or any sort of need for more eye contact. I thought I would never be ready to ever speak to you again. Although, it's become apparent to me that despite wishing I never even met you, I should still thank you. Thank you for showing me, albeit the hard way, that I never, ever, have to waste my time or my breath on people who are never going to think that I am good enough for them. Thank you for showing me that this heartache and depression you gave me was not in vain; because now I know that you are nothing. You are the selfish and decomposing embodiment of my insecurities. You are a lost little boy stuck in a man's body. You always will be. All the pain you've gone through since I cut you out has been brought on yourself. I am no longer pining for your attention. In fact the thought itself just brings me anger. I hope you've had a taste of your own fucking medicine, K. I hope someone treats you the same way you treated me. I had once said that I forgave you -- but I will never be more wrong. Though it's been years, there is no forgiving you. There is only thanking you for making my life better with your absence. If you ever even read this, it will only prove that this has worked out in my favour. Here's to never seeing you again... I'll drink to that.