It’s been a year since we ended our two year romance–exactly to this date–after you left me and then held onto me with a pinky finger with slivers of hope that we may get back together, that you may hold onto me, that you may after two years of joy actually make me matter to you…
So that’s three years of bs…and tonight, I finally put on a dress, some big sexy boots, got my nails done, wore makeup, and said “yes” when my friends asked me to dance.
I met someone. I kissed him. Danced to silly songs, Laughed. Heard I was sexy. And then another man in the parking lot ran up and said although he couldnt find a time to approach me tonight, he was interested and wanted my number.
I drove out of there with my phone buzzing–texts from both guys–and I felt wonderful, sexy, and back in the “game.” I swear I lost a year in you after you left me so suddenly–it felt good to get out tonight, leave it behind, and decide to move forward.
So, so, so good.
You are loveless.
For the first time on a Saturday night in a long long long long long time, I didnt think about you until I pulled into my driveway.
But this time it wasn’t painful. Or sorrow. . or regret or loss. I felt happy. And said out loud to myself “You dumb ass. You let me a good one go. . . and we lost us for good.” I actually felt sorry for you. I dont think you know what we had..but one day you will–and it’s too late. I’m gone. And it’s your fault.
You never let me in your dreams. . .