lettersto-a-blog

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Letter Forty Four

I can be mad that you left me like you did, or I can be thankful. You made me stronger. And I moved onto something even more beautiful and healthy. So thank you.

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Letter Forty Three

I’m finally getting over you. I’m finally almost over you. I can’t believe that I trusted you. I gave you my heart. I gave my heart to the wrong person. You didn’t deserve me. 

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Letter Forty Two

I still miss you. Every day, I still miss you. And, as much as I wish I could get over you, I can’t stop missing you. It’s become who I am. I will be forever missing you.

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Letter Forty-One

You made me feel worthless. And for that, I hate you.

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Letter Forty: Special Edition

Dear T,

I miss you. I miss our conversations. I miss the way you made me feel. I miss the way you loved me. I guess I was selfish. I took and took and took, never giving anything back. I wasn't a good friend, let alone lover. 

You were such a great guy. And I was a heartless bitch. You deserved so much better. But I still wish we could go back and we could do it all over again.

I'm sorry I broke what we had. I'm sorry I couldn't see what I was doing from the start. I'm just so sorry.

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Letter Thirty-Nine

I want to go back to a time when I didn't know you. It's funny, because I used to think I'd do it all over again — meeting you and falling in love with you — if I had known how this had turned out. But I've changed my mind. If I saw you coming, I'd turn and walk the other way.

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Letter Thirty-Eight

I'm done. I'm actually done this time. You can't be my friend only when it's convenient to you. Either be my friend, or leave me alone. 

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Letter Thirty-Seven

I'm always sitting around, waiting for you to throw me a fucking bone. It's so pathetic that I don't even want to admit to it.

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Letter Thirty-Six

Do you have a radar? Oh, she's finally done dealing with the pain and loneliness and waiting around for you, now I'm going to talk to her. Now I'm going to reinsert myself into her life. Why do you do this to me? I need to move on.

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Letter Thirty-Five

I don't even remember what we used to talk about. I don't remember what your voice sounds like, or your laugh. But I miss it.

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Letter Thirty-Four

If, in a few weeks, you're wondering why we are no longer friends, know that it was you that pushed me away. And I'm not coming back this time.

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Letter Thirty-Three

I'm done with this game you're playing. You want me to whore myself out for you so you'll throw me a bone, some scraps? I can't believe this is where we've ended up. But don't mistake this, this is the end. 

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Letter Thirty-Two

I don't understand how you can just sit there, knowing how I felt about you, and act like it was no big deal. I was hung up on you for months and months, crying myself to sleep. You can't say you want me now, because you didn't then. You went back to her and I was left crying. If I fall for you again, you'd better be there to catch me or I'm done with you forever.

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Letter Thirty-One

I thought I'd never get over you. I thought I'd be bitter for the rest of my life. But I also thought that we'd work it out, that we'd be together "forever". This is me, over you. Over your bullshit. Over you trying to keep me near just so you have a second choice. Over you.

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Letter Thirty

I figured it out. You do the things you do because you like the feeling of multiple people wanting you, loving you. 

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Letter Twenty-Nine

I need to start actually moving on. Maybe one day you'll love me again, but maybe not. I can't keep holding onto something that may never happen. So if you ever change your mind, you can know what it feels like to be desperately in love with someone that changed their mind. 

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Letter Twenty-Eight

I can’t help wishing that you’d leave her. But then I realize, you deserve to be happy. I’d be lying to myself to think that you could make you happy. I don’t know her, but you’ve made me hate her. And in that, you’ve made me hate myself. I’m done trying to be something that you could want. I’m done trying to tell myself that it doesn’t hurt talking to you. But it does. And the sickest part of it all, you don’t even care if it hurts me. I keep coming back for more.