It’s been eight months now. You would think that the hurt would have stopped by now. It hasn’t.
Thank you for all of the lies, heartache, and girls you messed around with behind my back. Thank you for the gas lighting, emotional damage, and complete lack of empathy for how your actions affected me. Thank you for watching me struggle to hold our relationship together while you did everything to destroy it. Thank you for watching me cry over and over again and just staring at me refusing to comfort me at all. Thank you for telling your family and friends lies to make me seem crazy so you can hide the messed up things you’ve done. Thank you for never actually loving me, but never having the balls to just say so. Mostly, thank you for making me wish I was dead.
I truly hope one day that you experience an ounce of the pain that I have felt the past eight months. I hope that someone lies to you, cheats on you, and breaks your heart. I hope you’re left with emotional scars that just won’t heal no matter how hard you try. I hope you love someone so much that you would do anything for them, and they walk out on you. I hope people that you fall so deeply in love that when the person leaves you, you wish you were dead too.