hi there i hate you right now. i feel so sick and awful and ugly and horrible and annoying and embarrassed that you didnt tell me that you werent in love with me sooner. sure, you can say you love me all you want, you can say that im so important to you. but if i really was, you wouldnt have fucked me over like this. i left your house and cried the whole drive home, got home and cried some more. and because i know you dont love me i fucking redownloaded tinder and made a new account and immediately got a bunch of matches. oh great im so excited that these strangers like my boobs wow yay. i feel sick everytime i open it. i look through all these people who want me, who think i’m hot and who want to fuck me and all it makes me think about is how you dont want to fuck me and how you are not in love with me. were you ever in love with me? were you serious? did i overwhelm you or something. i wasnt even this miserable when i was seven and thought my dad was going to die. i wasnt even this miserable when i was thinking of shooting myself in the fucking head before i got medicated. yeah yeah dont worry im not going to kill myself because outside of you everything is pretty great. my job is great, i almost have my degree, i have wonderful friends and my immediate family is really supportive. the thing is that i wanted to be the one that you were in love with. i wanted you to feel how i feel about you. i know i cant demand that of you. i wish i could be a bitch and send you this letter and leave you voicemails of me sobbing or something unhinged like that. but the most fucked up thing about you breaking up with me is that all i can think about is how you must have other things stressing you out, as if i am not an important part of anything. and also telling someone that theyre perfect is not right, because it is a nothing word (like important) it doesnt tell me anything about how you feel. and it’s frustrating that i wont ever know what you meant by “a while”. i’m gonna have to be honest and say that i can probably never see you again. i will listen to “how’s it going to be” by third eye blind and sob, but i will not be able to walk through your front door or run into you at a friend’s house. i must let myself be my priority. and being friends with you is not in my cards (get it, i believe in tarot and astrology and you dont? funny tho because our astrology is really good so maybe that is joke too, like how i am a joke to you) planning breaking up with me while making me finish a fucking videogame is insane. i could have lived without the ending if you coould have been honest with me sooner. this will sound pathetic (at least it does to me) but i am still in love with you and even though i could have had sex the same day you broke up with me, i dont think i want anyone to ever look at me again because i am thinking about you. an di know youre insecure about a lot of stuff, but you dont really let yourself get any help so maybe do that. i hate myself for thinking about you so much and for dreaming about you redoing youre breakup with me where it ends more favorably. i know you will never love me again if you ever did and i have to live with that. so tell Apollo i love him and have nightmares about breaking my heart
remember, when you tell people we broke up, you broke up with me, and it wasnt a mutual thing.
hypothetically speaking 