Look, it’s quite simple really.
I loved you. I loved you for a long time. I loved every part of you. Your eyes, nose, lips, fingers, thighs, toes. Everything. I loved the inside of you, the parts that made me scream and cry, both with laughter and in anger.
There’s not a thing I didn’t love, even when I hated you.
But that time has passed.
I can’t keep putting you first, you can’t stay my number one.
Is it really love when you don’t love yourself?
I obsessed. I was dependent on you, I needed you so I could live – by you, through you. I lived for you. Everything I did, said, and thought, was to make your life easier. To keep you on track to the goals that you are so desperate to achieve. I was so concerned with you I forgot about, well, me.
I like him now, and I know it hurts. It hurts me too.
I know you could ruin this new thing, even I could. Hell, maybe I already have. I’m afraid, I hope not. I can’t be alone. I just don’t want you to cause unnecessary drama, because I know you’re good at that. You’re capable of that.
Please don’t hurt me.