It took a long time to realize things with you weren’t going anywhere. The furthest place we’d go was to bed and back.
Leaving you wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but it wasn’t the hardest.
Being reminded of you was hard. The constant texts that said you wanted me back were hard. Reminding myself why I shouldn’t go back was hard.
The memories of the good times were hard.
The love I thought I had for you was strong. Surprisingly enough for you, my love and loyalty to my friends were stronger.
By offending them, you offended me; whether you voiced your opinions to their face or not. Complaining about my parents’ rules and talking crap about them, didn’t win me over.
Only I could complain about my family or friends. The minute you jumped in, game over, you didn’t know them like I do. You didn’t take the time to know them. Life was about you, not me and you.
Luckily for me, the wedge you drove between us, pushed me closer to the people who honestly did care about me. My friends and family. They helped me see I was worth more than you dished out.
I didn’t have to worry about saying the right things, acting a certain way, my friends allowed me to be myself. Something I could never do around you.
I didn’t have to worry about my parents saying something that you might take offensively. I didn’t have to worry anymore that you might stand me up when I needed you most.
I didn’t have to worry that I didn’t have anywhere to sleep because I was arguing with you at 4am.
Now, you’re the joke that I can tell over and over.
So when I see your name pop on my phone, I ignore you. Your words don’t mean anything because I’ve heard them before. This time, I won’t believe them.
But hey, if I ever want to hear someone tell me what an awful person I am, or that I’m a cheating, lying, b*tch, I’ll make sure to call you.
I don’t question what we could have been, what we should have been, or what we might still be. That time in my life is over.
My lack of response should be enough, but if that isn’t enough for you, then continue texting me.
Like my Facebook profile pictures, send me old messages from when I thought our love was real.
If that helps you sleep at night, do what needs to be done, just don’t expect a reply from me. I learned to deal with the lack of closure.
I’m not the same person I was before I met you, nor am I the same person I was while dating you, but damn if I couldn’t be prouder of the person I became.
