Good evening T
It’s been a hot minute. Summer nights remind me of bad decisions. I have the urge to write long messages that are intimate and sweet. Use wit and laugh and kick my legs whilst it feels like a dream. You lay in bed with your new wife. Samira her name. I found on the account where I hoped there would one day be a plaque with our names. You know even though I wish you the best it still killed me to see your name with someone else. Profanities left my mouth this evening when I went looking for the bullshit you fed me. So much of me wants to believe that was real. That you actually cared. The audacity you had to tell me you think highly of me. And using unknown territory. A freaking haunted house. You let me chase you through hell and back to turn around and move on like you had planned.

I no longer feel sorry for you. I no longer feel like I owe you anything. The most upsetting part is that I feel like you are my first of so many. When In reality all you are is my first heartbreak. Not because I loved you but because I tried to. You can’t love someone who didn’t want to stay. But I really wish I could let go of this pain I hold onto every day. I just don’t know how. How to forget you existed. I mean you made it look easy. To this day there’s not been anybody that’s as easy to talk to as you.

The amount you hurt me tops anything any human could. And childhood trauma is written on my forehead. So congratulations T. You are the person I despise the most in the world, for how you let me care and then walked away. I pray for the day I forget your name. Goodbye you piece of shit