a part of me thought you were better than to walk away from us. i was so wrong about you. how could I have been so dumb? how could you do that to me? after all i’ve done for you. the love i gave you, the things i’ve sacrificed for you because i was in love with you. I gave you what you wanted, so why did you still choose him? someone who is going to break your heart... something i’d never do.
I’d never break your heart the way I hope he does. I hope he breaks you, and you’ll come crawling back to me as if you were drowning, then gasping for air. I should have been your air.
it’s getting much harder to live everyday with this constant heart break in the back of my mind. you know it’s real when you can feel the knot in your throat, almost like it’s choking you. you can’t cry because it shows you’re weak, almost frail.
you let your guard down for the people who promise to never hurt you, and then they go back and break that promise. it doesn’t bother them, but it’s eating at you.
you’ve proved that you’re not who you said you were. and since we parted, all I can think about is the good times because we’ve had very few bad ones. why couldn’t you fight that feeling? it’s so ironic that when he came into the picture, you texted me that you’ve been feeling that way for a while, which i doubt.
you want to be friends. how about no? did you actually think i’d want to be your friend? if we’re friends, i can’t hold you, touch you, or kiss you. I realize you’re okay with all of that, which is what hurts the most. or maybe having the thought that you never loved me, little own in love with me.
i’m also not going to blame him because it wasn’t his fault, or was it? did he know about us? is that why you only posted me on your private story while you post him on your public one? this is all kind of tragic, really. you’re really going to lie to my face and tell me you love me. when all i did was love you. *was* in love with you, actually.
if you loved me, you wouldn’t have been so quick to jump into what’s his faces arms. I don’t even know his name, and maybe that’s a good thing. I have, however, taken a visit to his instagram page... it’s private. i’m not going to request to follow him, that’s weird.
you however, your page is public. you love the attention of people liking your pictures whether they follow you or not. so even if you get more views than likes, you’ll then post about how everyone views your “shit”, but the same amount of people don’t like it, which won’t make people go back and like it, but you like to think they will.
does he write about you? probably not. does he think about the little things like this? I bet not. it’s frustrating, my love. everything I do, I do for us, and you couldn’t see past that I didn’t have a dick. that’s mind blowing.
I wasn’t in it just for the sex, clearly, but maybe you were. maybe all you could think about was a boy when we were together. you’ve wasted my time. so thank you.