u/Comfort-In-Misery

Does your chest tighten at every red little notification that pops up hoping it’s me?

Are you checking your email daily looking for a new one that says “Hey”?

Are you still checking Snap for a new friend request?

Do you wonder what I’m doing and if I’m thinking about you too?

With every additional day that passes is there a feeling in the pit of your stomach and a little voice in your head asking if this is really where it ends?

No? Just me?

Does your chest tighten at every red little notification that pops up hoping it’s me?

Are you checking your email daily looking for a new one that says “Hey”?

Are you still checking Snap for a new friend request?

Do you wonder what I’m doing and if I’m thinking about you too?

With every additional day that passes is there a feeling in the pit of your stomach and a little voice in your head that is asking if this is really where it ends?

No? Just me?

You took every good thought I ever had about you (which was minimal at best) and obliterated them.

Lies, lies, and more lies. Big stuff, small stuff, didn’t matter, it was most likely a lie.

Name? Lie.

Location? Lie.

Age? Lie.

Details about your marriage? Lies.

How you felt about me? A lie.

Plenty more but I’d run out of patience (and room) typing them all out.

And then there’s the manipulation. That’s the real driving force here. I used to think it was odd when you’d randomly mention a little detail about something I told you long ago. Something that should be unimportant, unremarkable, uninteresting. In hindsight, it all makes sense. You studied me. Not because you cared. Because you wanted to know every possible way to manipulate me into giving you what you wanted.

And you were successful. Wow are you good at what you do! So good at it in fact, I continued to give it to you long after I figured you out. You created the most perfect emotional drug and I became a junkie for it.

The high has long worn off now and I’m disappointed you had such a hold on me for as long as you did but, it got me to where I needed to be.

I’m sorry you feel so empty inside that you felt the need to suck the life out of someone else. It’s obvious you hate yourself. If it makes you feel any better, I hate you now too.

You took every good thought I ever had about you (which was minimal at best) and obliterated them.

Lies, lies, and more lies. Big stuff, small stuff, didn’t matter, it was most likely a lie.

Name? Lie.

Location? Lie.

Age? Lie.

Details about your marriage? Lies.

How you felt about me? A lie.

Plenty more but I’d run out of patience (and room) typing them all out.

And then there’s the manipulation. That’s the real driving force here. I used to think it was odd when you’d randomly mention a little detail about something I told you long ago. Something that should be unimportant, unremarkable, uninteresting. In hindsight, it all makes sense. You studied me. Not because you cared. Because you wanted to know every possible way to manipulate me into giving you what you wanted.

And you were successful. Wow are you good at what you do! So good at it in fact, I continued to give it to you long after I figured you out. You created the most perfect emotional drug and I became a junkie for it.

The high has long worn off now and I’m disappointed you had such a hold on me for as long as you did but, it got me to where I needed to be.

I’m sorry you feel so empty inside that you felt the need to suck the life out of someone else. It’s obvious you hate yourself. If it makes you feel any better, I hate you now too.