u/SekhmetinWonderland

I’ve been paying attention, and the pattern is clear.

You talk about other people’s private lives like they’re stories you own. Their relationships, their mistakes, even their pictures 🤮, you share them casually, like it’s nothing. Like their boundaries don’t exist.

And you do the same thing in a different way with me.

You say you’ll follow up, then you don’t. You leave things hanging, then come back like nothing happened. You had time to go out, to spend a whole day at an amusement park, to sit at dinner with friends, but somehow, a few seconds to keep your word was too much.

And when I called, you answered, but you didn’t show up. You made me sit there listening to you talk to other people, like I was background noise. Can you imagine how dehumanizing was that? I felt like I was in a "Black Mirror" episode, listening to you and your friend's conversation, while I was sitting there, inanimate, voiceless, as if I'm just an accessory.

So let’s not call this “busy.” Let’s not call this “bad timing.”

This is a pattern.

You don’t respect people’s privacy.

You don’t respect people’s time.

And you don’t respect people enough to be accountable to them.

At this point, it’s not even surprising. It’s consistent. And consistency like that says everything.

You keep saying you’re sorry. You say you regret your actions.

Then why are we still having the same conversations, over and over, for months?

If you were truly sorry, I wouldn’t have to sit here explaining the same things to you again and again, for months. Not just one night, W. Months.

How many apologies have I heard?

How many “it’s not my intention”?

Countless.

And yet nothing changes. You’re still the same, doing the same things.

You said you should have ended this six months ago because all you did was hurt me. That’s not true.

Six months ago, you needed me. You were in a toxic relationship of your own making, and you needed someone to talk to, someone to give you insight. That’s why you stayed. That's why I stayed. You even begged me to stay.

And in those six months, it wasn’t just me getting hurt.

You were losing people. You were grieving. You were spiraling. You were putting yourself in unsafe situations. And despite everything, despite how you treated me, despite you pushing me away, I stayed.

I checked on you. I made sure you were okay. I asked how you were, even after you told me talking to me felt like a chore.

That’s the difference between us.

You treat people based on their utility to you.

When you needed me, I mattered.

When you didn’t, you treated me as disposable.

And I stayed, because I knew the last thing you needed was someone else leaving while you were already breaking.

Staying didn’t make you better. It just made it easier for you to keep doing the same things to me.

And now you send messages like:

“I hope you have a fantastic two years… I want happiness and a long life for you…”

Those aren’t kind words. They’re empty.

If you truly wanted that for me, I wouldn’t have had to beg for your time. I wouldn’t have had to chase you just to be acknowledged. I wouldn’t have had to sit there while you treated me like background noise.

You can say whatever you want, but people aren’t judged by words, they’re judged by actions.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from you, it’s this, treating people with basic human decency is something you struggle with, especially when they’re no longer useful to you.

So you can wish me well all you want, but when your actions say the opposite, there’s only one way to describe it -- two-faced. Fake.

I’ve been paying attention, and the pattern is clear.

You talk about other people’s private lives like they’re stories you own. Their relationships, their mistakes, even their pictures 🤮, you share them casually, like it’s nothing. Like their boundaries don’t exist.

And you do the same thing in a different way with me.

You say you’ll follow up, then you don’t. You leave things hanging, then come back like nothing happened. You had time to go out, to spend a whole day at an amusement park, to sit at dinner with friends, but somehow, a few seconds to keep your word was too much.

And when I called, you answered, but you didn’t show up. You made me sit there listening to you talk to other people, like I was background noise. Can you imagine how dehumanizing was that? I felt like I was in a "Black Mirror" episode, listening to you and your friend's conversation, while I was sitting there, inanimate, voiceless, as if I'm just an accessory.

So let’s not call this “busy.” Let’s not call this “bad timing.”

This is a pattern.

You don’t respect people’s privacy.

You don’t respect people’s time.

And you don’t respect people enough to be accountable to them.

At this point, it’s not even surprising. It’s consistent. And consistency like that says everything.

You keep saying you’re sorry. You say you regret your actions.

Then why are we still having the same conversations, over and over, for months?

If you were truly sorry, I wouldn’t have to sit here explaining the same things to you again and again, for months. Not just one night, W. Months.

How many apologies have I heard?

How many “it’s not my intention”?

Countless.

And yet nothing changes. You’re still the same, doing the same things.

You said you should have ended this six months ago because all you did was hurt me. That’s not true.

Six months ago, you needed me. You were in a toxic relationship of your own making, and you needed someone to talk to, someone to give you insight. That’s why you stayed. That's why I stayed. You even begged me to stay.

And in those six months, it wasn’t just me getting hurt.

You were losing people. You were grieving. You were spiraling. You were putting yourself in unsafe situations. And despite everything, despite how you treated me, despite you pushing me away, I stayed.

I checked on you. I made sure you were okay. I asked how you were, even after you told me talking to me felt like a chore.

That’s the difference between us.

You treat people based on their utility to you.

When you needed me, I mattered.

When you didn’t, you treated me as disposable.

And I stayed, because I knew the last thing you needed was someone else leaving while you were already breaking.

Staying didn’t make you better. It just made it easier for you to keep doing the same things to me.

And now you send messages like:

“I hope you have a fantastic two years… I want happiness and a long life for you…”

Those aren’t kind words. They’re empty.

If you truly wanted that for me, I wouldn’t have had to beg for your time. I wouldn’t have had to chase you just to be acknowledged. I wouldn’t have had to sit there while you treated me like background noise.

You can say whatever you want, but people aren’t judged by words, they’re judged by actions.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from you, it’s this, treating people with basic human decency is something you struggle with, especially when they’re no longer useful to you.

So you can wish me well all you want, but when your actions say the opposite, there’s only one way to describe it -- two-faced. Fake.