I can’t tell him what I want to say to him. I can tell you guys though. So I am.
I wanted to text you back but I couldn’t. In fact, I’m not even 100% sure I even wanted to. Part of me felt compelled to, but something deep down inside me told me that it would be a very bad idea. I’ve started to learn to trust that feeling. So I did.
I’m seeing someone else now. In fact, we’re in a relationship. We’ve been seeing each other for about three months, and it’s actually going pretty well. He’s not you but I guess that’s a good thing. We didn’t work. Anyway, I don’t think it would be fair to him, or me for that matter, to message you back and invite you into my life again. The way I felt for you was something I couldn’t explain, and I would have stayed feeling that way for you forever. Or at the very least, a really long time. There was nothing about you I couldn’t love. All the little things I hated about you – even they weren’t enough to change the love I had for you. To invite that sort of feeling back into my life when I’m embarking on a relationship with someone new would be wrong. I would hate it if he were to do that to me, so I’m not going to be a hypocrite and do that to him.
Him aside, getting over you was tough. And I mean really tough. I cried for what felt like an eternity. I don’t even think I’m done crying yet. I cannot explain to you the pain that I felt when you slipped out of my life, but it wasn’t pretty. After that, life and my health got super shit, but thats another story for another day perhaps. Or maybe not. It’s not as if we are ever going to communicate again.
Getting over you the first time around was almost impossible and I’m going to be honest, I’m nowhere near ready to say I’m over you yet. I don’t think I’ll cope if I need to get over you a second time around, and I’m not naive enough to think the situation will ever change for the better. If it was going to change, it would have changed already. We wouldn’t have broken up in the first place. What we had, whatever it was, is finished with. As is any relationship we will ever had. We are not friends. We are not acquaintances. We are ex’s and we do not speak. I don’t want you in my life. I can’t cope with you being in my life. I don’t even want to try.
So next time it’s 1:20am and you think about sending me a text, please don’t. I don’t know what you wanted to say to me. Nor do I care. I don’t want to hear whatever it is you have to say, or what head fuck game you want to play next. It’s done. Over. There is no need for us to communicate anymore.
For months and months I have sat there, blaming myself for everything that went wrong, wondering if I’d had a bit more patience, whether you would have walked away, or if I had just kept my mouth shut about the things that were bugging me, you’d still be mine. But if I had done that, kept my mouth shut and not had those fights with you, I would have ended up leaving anyway out of frustration. So what would have been the point? Just like, what would have been the point in you messaging me, or me messaging you back? What were you seriously expecting? That I’d message back, best of friends, as though the last six months had never happened? Are you deluded?
I can’t question my actions while we were together anymore. I don’t have the energy to do that over and over again, and I’ll be honest, I don’t see the point when I know it’s only me doing that. Walking away was so easy for you, or at least it seemed to be. You were on your way to dating someone new before I’d even realised we were no longer together. That’s not the kind of man I want to date. You’re no longer the guy that won’t break my heart, because you kinda already did. Learning that we were finished in that way has got to be one of the most degrading experiences I’ve ever had. You made me feel as if I were worth nothing and I can tell you this, I know I’m worth a shit tonne more than that, thank you very much.
Part of me is hoping that you’ve realised the grass isn’t greener on the other side, whatever the other side was for you. I don’t think you ever cheated, if that means anything to you now; I genuinely trusted you with my life and that’s what made our breakup so difficult. I found it really hard to detach from you because even right at the end, I trusted you. But part of me does hope that you’re pining for me, checking your phone every five minutes to see if I’ve read the message, or if I’ll message back. I want to think that your heart sunk when you realised I had blocked you. I know you probably didn’t even notice, but I like to think it would affect you a little.
It doesn’t matter if it did or it didn’t though. I’d never know anyway. I wouldn’t want to know. Not now, too much has happened, too much water has gone under the bridge. I’ve said too many things, and you’ve said too many things. None of the right things of course, but what has been said and done can’t be un-done. They happened and whether or not you choose to, I will always remember them.
Throughout all the years and all the failed relationships, I like to think I’ve learned a thing or two, and one thing I have most definitely learned is that an ex is an ex for a reason. Whenever I have gotten back with an ex, or tried to re-invite him back into my life again, things have gone sour and normally, in a truly awful way. I don’t want to run the risk of that happening with you, and I’d rather not find out whatever it is you wanted.
I hope your life is going well but, no disrespect, I don’t really care. Keep it to yourself. I don’t need to know.