I told myself I wouldn’t write another article about you. You don’t deserve it then I see you and I’m just like I wish you knew. You didn’t deserve that Instagram post I made about you because I was letting go. I didn’t deserve the hesitation and the “Yes” I got when asked when she was prettier than me. I didn’t deserve the trash talking and me losing most of my friends. I didn’t deserve the week of constant tear stained cheeks. Who deserves that?
They say the most wonderful gift is to love and be loved in return. I thought I had that. I tell myself that someday I’ll get that and I’ll cherish it forever but it will never be okay. For the first time, it is okay. For the first time, I can stand on my two feet and not wonder how you are doing and resisting the urge to contact you.
I’m okay. I am learning how to be okay. You don’t deserve when I learn how to love myself again after I was broken. You see, you didn’t break me completely but you sure helped with the final shot. I was told to always tell the truth and to never hold in my feelings only to be told almost a year later that I was wasting my breath and oxygen.
I learned that deleting every single picture takes everything out of you but it’s worth it. I felt some sort of accomplishment. For the first time in forever, I remembered how great it was to smile and laugh truly. It is an amazing feeling. I remembered what it was like to feel butterflies on the first date and when he kisses you, it’s like the world stops for a brief second.
Thank you but no thank you. I know I’m never going to be the one you tell your future kids about and that’s okay. My kids will someday ask about the first time I got my heartbroken and I may smile and tell them about the hardest year of my life.
I’ll tell them the tale of the boy who saved my life but it was a treacherous love affair. It was a relationship that in the end became toxic and something I can’t latch onto for the sake of my mental health. Just maybe you’ll tell the tale of the girl who just loved you too hard that it just wasn’t enough.
Maybe I am wasting my time writing this article. Maybe again, I’m wasting my time and my breath. I saw you and I saw anger and someone I didn’t know.
Maybe writing is something that will always help me and some day I hope you understand. All the articles written about you are genuine. It’s for a reason.
I want to move on. I don’t want to look at you and be full of regret. I’m putting my foot down so I can finally be okay. This is it. All the pictures and all the memories forever gone. Goodbye and farewell.
