And then I thought, Fucking Christ, Woman, people are probably already fucking sick of reading about my annoyingly tragic He said he was crazy about me and then I never heard from him again story.
And then my next thought was, I don't actually fucking care.
Cuz you're not gonna call me at three in the morning again.
And I'm not gonna send you a photo of me again.
And this is all there is.
My letter to the world.
And YOU.
You weren't mean to my friend.
The last time she asked you what was going on with us you told her to fuck off, do you remember that?
And then six months later when you approached her and asked what was going on with me she resisted the urge to tell YOU to fuck off.
Cuz wouldn't that have just been the perfect line in this story?
No, she didn't, she talked to you.
And then I stumbled into the bar that night.
The night you decided you wanted to date again.
Which already feels like a long time ago.
And maybe that's a good thing.
So I thought maybe since you talked to her a few months ago you might talk to her again.
But you didn't.
You didn't say anything.
And Mother said, That sounds like him.
But as I listened to her recount what she said and the one sentence you said, all I heard was
He's unhappy too.
And maybe this makes me a terribly fucked up person, but that made me feel better.
To know you're suffering.
Cuz you know, I really fucking am too.
And it's not my fault.
I didn't do this.
And I don't actually want an apology.
I don't want a phone call.
I don't want to show up at your new bar and have you intensely stare at me in delight and fear and bewilderment.
I want the next time I see you to be so entirely epically different than all of this shit that it doesn't even feel like us.
When you finally realize, when you're sober at 2am and thinking of me like you always do, when the weight of how you've hurt me crushes your heart, when you remember how beautiful my eyes looked looking up at you so sincerely flooding you with light, when you're feeling brave.
I want you to think of a way, some intensely romantic, over the top, obscene way to communicate your heart, your remorse over being such a damn fool, yet again, over and over making the wrong choice where my heart was concerned.
I want you to contact my best friend whose number you now have, the one person, other than me, who believes in the good in you, in spite of you, the person whose witnessed our chaos, who captured my favorite photo with you, and I want you to tell her it's time.
Time to do something, not say anything, because all you've ever given me were words, words with no action, no follow up to ground all the romance I'd think later was a lie.
But you told me you've never lied to me.
You just haven't been equipped to do everything you said.
So the day you are, the day your self love overshadows your self hate, the day you realize you are deserving of real love, not the kind that would push you off a building, the day the image of my face is pressing on your heart, that's the time I want you to do something.
I don't even know what.
But you will.
And this is destroyed.
This hope, this trust, this desire for a continuation of our story.
It's ended.
I can't even dream of your caress anymore.
My subconscious wants to run away from you.
But there will come a day, likely a long ways from now, a day we shouldn't even still be thinking of each other.
But we will.
We both know we always will.
And by then, this failed story, this romantic tragedy will have gathered cobwebs around it.
And the pain won't be present anymore.
Because we both will have healed.
And this time, this time you smile at me and look upon my fancy face will be entirely different.
Because it will have nothing to do with our past.
We will be different.
And we'll have grown.
And forgiven.
And I don't know, I don't know if you'll be strong enough to let me have your love then.
And I don't know if the other men who've been in my bed will have stepped into your corner of my heart.
But there is a chance, a small miracle of a chance, I could let us try.
I don't know who I'll be then yet.
But you said I was right.
You had nothing to counter me.
You're in love with me.
Because I've been right this whole time.
And you're never wrong.
Which is why I was so right for you.
Because with me, you were.
Wrong.
For the first time in your life I knew.
Not you.
And one day you will be ready for a partner who pushes you.
Challenges the very things you believe.
But by then, I will be even stronger.
And it will take a warrior to have the strength to hold onto my heart.
And until then, I am pursuing this adventure alone.
Because I don't need you.
But you, dear one.
You will never have peace until you've won me back.
So do the work.
Fucking dig deep.
Self love.
Then Resa love.
That's all you need, dear.
You've over complicated the simplest thing.
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