I slept with you and with Glasses and that couple.
I slept with three other people the week we last slept together.
Did you sleep with her that same week?
I slept with three other people and I was happy and I was vibrant and I trusted myself.
The night you wrote me I was happy.
I slept with a stranger and I was happy and I went to the coast and I missed your opera because I was happy and I had plans that had nothing to do with you and I didn't need to write you back because you'd sent me a song and that was enough and I felt beautiful and I was happy.
The night you called me I was so happy.
We talked for hours and you called the next night and we talked even longer and you wanted my body each night but I didn't come over because we wanted things to be different and I said you could have my body in fifteen hours and you moaned fifteen hours like it was the longest length of time to endure.
And I said yes, I will be all yours in fifteen hours and I told you I'm so happy and you whispered so am I.
And then you disappeared and I was unhappy.
You missed our date and you never called and I didn't know what happened or if you were okay and I was worried and I was unhappy.
And I finally found you and you cried and ran away from me when I tried to say goodbye and I didn't understand and my confusion made me unhappy.
And weeks passed and then I stumbled upon you and you turned away from me and ran away again and I didn't understand and my confusion continued to make me unhappy.
And then the next day you wrote the cruelest words you've ever said to me, crueler than anything I ever dreamed you might feel and your cruelty numbed my heart and I was so unhappy.
And then the next day because you possibly feared your words hadn't been sharp enough you blocked me, blocked me as you had promised through tears you would never do, but now you had, have blocked me.
Unfair, unkind rhetoric and unnecessary banishment from every corner of your life.
And I am fucking unhappy.
I don't sleep with anyone and I doubt my own instincts and my wild heart and I'm unhappy.
Everyone wants me to forget you and let it go but my heart hurts so much and I am so desperately unhappy.
I'm sitting on the beach and the ocean always calms my soul and it's nice and all but I'm still monumentally unhappy.
And my best friend was crying, on her stomach, uncontrollably shaking and she said I don't want to be sad anymore and I said I don't either but I'm still so unhappy.
And we are the feelers.
Everything pierces our hearts and lingers and we resonate with every ounce of feeling within it.
And it would be nice to stop feeling sad.
It would be nice to sleep with strangers and feel beautiful and go places I love and be so so happy but right now my heart is broken and I am unhappy.
I put on a hat I love and wore the red lipstick in the gold case I'd never used before and I'm trying really hard to remember the rainbow I used to be but I'm still incredibly unhappy.
And maybe it's wrong to give you so much power and you shouldn't know this depression is rooted in you because after all, you're just a boy, not nearly yet a true man, you're frightened and you're a coward and you are not capable of the kind of love overflowing in my veins.
But it's you.
The culprit of my wounded heart.
The villain.
The unfortunate object of my hearts greatest desire.
And time will make all of this smaller and I will learn to cohabitate with my sadness and it will release me from the final memory of your cruel stare peering through that faded window pane, staring at my form in horror through those green spectacles I detest in entirety.
But now, right painfully now, I am devastated and I'm unhappy.
And as much as I may be awful in saying this, I hope wherever you are, whatever you're doing, whichever new woman is in your bed this Sunday afternoon, I hope you are secretly, monumentally, unhappy too.
Because how could you possibly embody pure joy when you have shattered the woman I used to be.
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