So. All those years ago, back when I first met you, I thought that I liked you. I thought that you were an amazing person. Everything that I possibly wanted. And yes, I’ll admit, I fucked up several times, but you were always forgiving. And I enjoyed every minute I spent with you. Until you met your asshole of a boyfriend.
I listened to you talk about how wonderful, perfect, and amazing he was, when in reality, he was just a bastard, like everybody else. At least I admitted that I was jerk… he masqueraded as a saint while abusing and manipulating you. I hated watching it… it hurt so much as I watched the whole goddamn train wreck.
You treated me like a goddamn dog. You only talked to me when you were bored, or when your little slice of Eden broke apart. I was always there in your background, and I was only important when you wanted me to. Any other time, all you wanted me to do was just to fuck off.
And then, when the son of a bitch finally dumped you, I was there, helping you, and listening to you cry, and sob, and whine about how you were filth, and trash, and garbage. And then I comforted you, and told you that you were a wonderful person, who deserved better. And then you went back to that son of a bitch Ex, and started talking to him again, and went back to “just like old times.” Well goddam it. I’m so glad that you appreciated my support so much. You are welcome.
And then, you find some other guy, and again. I’m stuck in the background, not important anymore.
Well, news to you. I don’t care anymore. I’m done with you. I’ve found somebody else. I’m done with your shit. I’m done with all of this.
This old dog is going home.