Hello dearest,
It’s been a while since you left, more than a month maybe? Who knows. It all feels the same to me. Truth is, I’ve been nothing but gray. Mom would be so fucking ashamed. You see, there’s more to a breakup than just a goodbye and a new lover. I’ll tell you why. You were the first, and I have no idea why I felt so damn safe whenever I was with you. I had been scared of men for so long, pushing them away to avoid getting hurt. Because, in a way, I know myself, and I know my heart. I feel everything and I give myself up completely, every fucking single time. Whatever I saw broken in you, I saw in myself and I wanted to make everything better for the both of us. Oh dear, if only you had felt the same. You made sure I came up clean about everything. You wanted to know every single thing about me, the saddest moments of my life, even though I was so hesitant to open myself up. I didn’t want to get hurt. I was so fragile, having gone through my mom’s fight against cancer. Then you came and I saw you like a tiny beacon of light. “This is a sign from the universe telling me the worst part is over, telling me he’s the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow” SO. FUCKING. WRONG. That’s the price I gotta pay for being such a romantic.
I don’t hate you. In fact, I still wait for you every single day. I sleep with my phone close by so I can hear that special ringtone in case you ever call. I can’t hate you. I can’t hate you for not feeling the same way about me. I wish I could, I’m sure that would make things so much easier for me. I do wish you had been nice to me. I do wish I hadn’t see you with another girl a week after you broke up with me. Telling me you couldn’t do long distance, that I was a burden. Imagine how it felt when I saw you here doing long distance with someone else. What was I for you? A game? A contest? Please, let me know. If you knew all along you wanted to be with her, why would you allow me to fall so damn hard? Why would you tell me so many nice things? Why would you let me picture myself with you on the long run? Fuck. That doesn’t hurt me as much. You know what does? Being treated like a piece of junk. I feel like I deserved better. A face to face breakup. A honest one. One where you tell me that you wanna try ‘love’ with someone else, your high school sweetheart or whatever. One where you tell me I’m not it for you. I don’t know.
I wanted to keep in touch with you, after all I had gotten so used to your damn ass. You had to unfriend me, didn’t you? You couldn’t stand the sight of the woman you stepped over like a mat. You had to delete my phone number, didn’t you? You couldn’t risk getting drunk and calling me. What is it with you? What do you want? You don’t even know, I bet. I was willing to do everything for you. Oh well.
-The girl with the messy hair