We spent years writing with eachother. You told me you wanted to build a longlasting and durable connection with me, but I was not convinced of your intentions. I learned so much about myself, and humanity, and the universe and everything, while writing with you. I thought great thoughts, and those I shared with you, you said it was ok. You told me you liked that I missed you at times, and that I was safe with you. You said you were brave. You told me you liked my stories, and that I was beautiful to you.
But no, I wasn’t. You lost interest in me, while I was building an attachment to you. I wanted to know everything, tell me more about your car, tell me more about your love of music, tell me more about your childhood memories, tell me everything, but you lost interest. Suddenly I was nothing to you, and I found you writing with other people, telling them they are beautiful (which they are, of course), doing things with other people (and not with me), and still you told me I was special.
How special was I when you stayed up late in the night painting pictures for her? But you told me, everything has it’s time. How special was I when I confronted you, and you told me I’m a freak for finding out what you did? How special was I when you didn’t say “I’m sorry”, and instead said “You were just a fling.” How special was I?
I was just a plaything to you, how cruel. Cruel of you to take an already broken heart and break it even further. Cruel of you to give me hope, and then take it away. I hoped that there was empathy, I hoped there was something else between us two than just your needs, I hoped and longed for a true friend. You said you were, and then you lied to me and discarded me. You told me stories about humanity, you said you wanted a connection to make you feel less lonely, little did I know that you wanted connections with thousands of people. Little did I know that I was just one of the many “special friends”, little did I know that you would lie to me to keep me. Little did I know that you would discard me with a cold heart when I found out you were dishonest.
Truth does not hurt if you are honest. You used me, while I loved a you which you fabricated.
I’m sorry for engaging. I’m sorry for trying to be your friend. I’m sorry for trying to make you smile. I’m sorry for all of that. It wasn’t worth the pain, but I’m thankful for the lesson.
Couldn’t this have ended differently? I wanted you to remain my little prince, I wanted you to remain brave, beautiful and wise. Instead you turned out to be a coward, a liar and abuser.
I was right about you. Your intention wasn’t pure. You didn’t care about me, you cared about you.