He gave me pain. He gave me so much pain. He treated me like a princess but then one day decided I no longer was one. I tried to do everything right this time.
We were open and honest it was me and him against the world. We agreed to let go of those who have interfered in the past. We were going to do this right this time, we promised.
But promises are meant to be broken. He went back to the one person who had ruined me before. It’s ironic, history really does repeat itself, and the worst of all… people don’t change.
Then it’s the usual next stage of a breakup: the competition.
The competition of who can block the other faster, delete any social media trace of the relationship, who can go out and party more and pretend their having a good time.
But what was it for? It was a mind game. It was bullshit. Because at the end of the night when you’re alone and the drugs and alcohol have worn off… it’s just you and your mind.
His mind is a scary place. Filled with depression and anxiety and haunting thoughts. And now? Now it is worse than it ever could be.
No psychiatrist, no medication, no amount of drugs could fix this broken mind.
He had lost the one person who made him truly happy, the one person who made him realize that the world is not so dark of a place after all. But he gave that all away.
For I did not like the person he came while he smoked, so he sought comfort from his old ways. I saw the changes, the annoyance with me, hiding his phone, something didn’t add up.
My intuitions caved in, and lead me to the end. That's how well I knew him, that I could tell he was cheating. It wasn't one of those pathetic breakups where I find out he cheated.
It's the one where I find out for myself and tell him to fuck off. What a bad bitch I am right? Wrong.
Because as I walked away for the last time I was still hoping he was going to chase after me, I mean after all he gave me a promise ring weeks after we started dating. A freaking promise ring.
He wanted to marry me. That had to mean something right? Wrong. People don’t change. It’s an act. It’s always an act. And who ends up the sore loser? Me. The one person who was always happy.
The one person who was always optimistic, is now destroyed. He always said that he was too attached to me. Yet now I cannot function without his presence. Every damn thing reminds me of him.
How do you go from speaking to someone every second of every day to pretending they never existed. Well, you have to.
You have to move on, he is right? Or maybe, just maybe there’s some silver lining and he really does think about you. He really does miss you.
Oh, who am I kidding… he doesn’t give a shit about you. And you shouldn’t either. Forget him. Forget whatever shit he has put you through.
Forget the 6 years out of your 18 years of life that he just threw away. It’s time to move on. I used to believe that in life there should no regrets, just lessons.
And boy did I learn a lesson... I regret the day I ever met you.