Hey. Hi. It’s me. Your former flame. Your ex dumpster fire.
I know I said I could just leave things be and get on with my life, but I’ve had some time to think about how everything went down last November. It’s not going to be easy, but there’s something I’ve been needing to say.
I know what I was. I know I wasn’t easy. I was out of control sometimes. I know I ran hot and cold, and that couldn’t have been pleasant or fun to watch as I went through my roller coaster pattern. But in all honesty: I didn’t mean to hurt you. Not really. All I ever wanted was your attention. All I ever needed was to be validated and approved of. Turns out, I needed to validate and approve of myself. It wasn’t you.
And now, you’ve moved on. I know you have. I see how you are now. These past 12 months have really shown how different things are. I can’t hope to hold a candle to what consumes you and holds your interests. I know he’s bigger than me, that he’s far more interesting and puts on a better show. Hell, every day is a fresh new fire, more unholy than the day before, and you just can’t look away. I know that. And you know what? I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry it’s come to this.
It’s my fault. I played with fire and you got burned. And I knew, before I did, that the minute I burned you you’d leave so fast my head would spin. And I was right. How’s that for a self-fulfilling prophecy, huh? Jeez Louise. And now look at the mess we’re all in. There’s so much distance between us, we might as well be strangers. We don’t talk like we used to. I miss that. I miss you.
I know this will fall of deaf ears. Your life is so full now, I don’t expect there will ever be a place for me in your life again. Not like it was, and we can’t go back. I don’t blame you. Really. But I’m just so goddamned sorry. I wasn’t my best. You never got the best of me, and that sucks. It sucks for you because you got the worse deal, and of course you left. You weren’t getting your needs met. You had to leave me for you. You had to leave the memories which have just fizzled out and have turned to ash.
I know I wasn’t good enough for you. But I tried real hard. And I think that’s where I went astray. I tried and therein lies the rub. I shouldn’t have tried to be anything but me, with my quaint idiosyncrasies, stubborn quirks, annoying habits, and disgusting faults. Everything. I should have just been me. Take it or leave it. And, well. I guess you made your choice. I made my bed and now, I must lay in it. And now, you have fresh fires every day, and you don’t want for excitement, abject horror, and incredulity you desperately crave to distract you from your own life.
I was wrong to think I could keep you around, but, you’re off to greener pastures, and while I wish nothing but the best for you two, I do miss you. Every day. Don’t think I don’t. Without you around, life seemingly has little purpose. The light has gone out, and I sit alone wondering if this is how it’s supposed to be, if this is how it’s going to be, forever. I hope not.
I hope, with enough time, you’ll see just how special things were. When it was just us two: intimate, close, happy. When this is all over in 2020, perhaps we can give it another go? Until then, I’ll be here. Waiting. Hoping.