I took a long drive tonight thinking about you, thinking about all the things I wish I could say to you.
You were….my everything. Everything I could possibly ask for and it meant nothing. I wish you would have told me to fuck off the first time I told you I loved you so I didn’t have to deal with you finding someone who could never love you like I could. He might fulfill all your physical desires, but he will never come close to the feelings I had for you. I hope you’re happy now, finally. And I hope you forever have the picture of my face when he showed up to your house when we were talking tattooed in your head. I don’t ever want you to forget that. Because you were happiness. My happiness. And just like it was stripped from me that day, you’ve stripped it from me again.
But shit happens, right? That’s what you said anyways. Little did I know that’s how you felt about me and us the entire time. It was just shit. I was just filling in till another came along. Perhaps the shittiest part is that you had the audacity to tell me that you loved me and made me believe you had real feelings. Oh, but then later you told me that you had “stopped exploring your feelings for me,” which, unsurprisingly happened right when Mr. Amazing showed up. Thank you for leading me on this wonderful little adventure through the dark cavern that is your heart. I could have sworn I had seen light at the end of it, and I did. Little did I know if was a cliff that just led to, oh, more pain.
With everything we have been though, both of us, I never thought you would do this. I never expected anything from you for all the things I helped you with, I just assumed you at least cared enough about me to not fuck with my feelings. But you did. And now you tell me that I can still talk to you if I need advice or help? Why would I do that? Why would I want to subject myself to these feelings again? Because like it or not, I still love you. I can’t change that. I always will. But shit happens…