We broke up six days ago. I can remember exactly because it was the day after I turned seventeen. Good timing.
You’ve been ignoring me. Dead end calls. Dead end texts. Dead end conversations; did we ever really get anywhere before all this? Don’t get me wrong things have never been good. “Then why did you stick around?” Because I am fucking in love with you, and I never wanted to believe you were a bad person.
I got an aching in my gut, and no it’s not because I haven’t been eating (even though I haven’t.) It was the type of ache I would get when curled in your arms watching a rom-com and the couple wouldn’t make it through. They were an almost, and I almost thought they were us. So.e sort of premonition. A sinking feeling you don’t quite understand at first, but eventually it hits you. Like when I saw her posting about you. Giggling in your videos. Your mom filming you two.
And I felt it. The feeling of already being replaced. See your mom would bombard us taking videos. Post them online embarrassingly. It was something she saved for me, her ‘daughter in-law’. Without hesitation she moved on to her, as if to subtly tell me ‘it’s over and you don’t even know yet.”
But I felt it.
I felt it when I asked if you cared that we hadn’t been hardly talking and you said ‘honestly, no’. When I broke down tonight and called you a selfish asshole, and all the things you deserved to be called for years. I asked if you didn’t have feelings for me anymore and without hesitation you said ‘yes.’ Point blank.
When I ridiculed your new found interest in her you laughed when I said people who love horses are fucking stupid, and the heart she draws on her face is fucking trashy. But when I said ‘are we better friends?’ You said ‘maybe. Even though the sex was amazing’. I laughed but almost wanted to cry and told you about how I wanted to fuck you still. You got quiet. I apologized a million times. I was that girl now who got in between new love. I was that girl I hated. I hate myself more because it’s true I wish I could fuck you and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I wish you wouldn’t of said it was a bad idea.
You cheated on me after two years, it’s been six days and you won’t fuck me over this girl.
When I finally bothered you enough to get some real feelings out of you you sighed exsapetered and said ‘fine. Fuck. I’m fucking sorry for everything I did. I’m sorry you deserve to be treated like a fucking queen and I couldn’t do that. Just please promise me you won’t change. Always be that girl I first met, the sweetest girl I know. Please don’t change.”
How the fuck do I get over you?