I want you to know how badly you hurt me. I have never, ever felt pain like that. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully describe it.
There were days when I honestly could not believe I was alive. I’d be at work wondering how I even left my bed or how I managed to find the energy to dress myself, let alone drive to work or interact with people. There were days when I cried so hard, I almost passed out. There were multiple days when I’d lay on the shower floor and sob. Days when 5 p.m. rolled around and I realized I hadn’t had one single thing to eat.
There were days when the grief felt like a physical blow and I couldn’t even stand, I’d just curl up in bed and stare at nothing. Then there were the days when the numbness consumed me and it was all I could feel, just empty and numb.
I want you to know all of this because you aren’t capable of feeling these things. No matter what you tell me, you didn’t hurt this much. Leaving me was only hard for you because you felt bad hurting my feelings. For once, you were the bad guy, not the perfect person you portray.
You probably hated breaking my heart because other people questioned you. Because other people saw your decision as wrong and you had to spend your time justifying why you were right. It was an inconvenience in your perfect world.
Breaking up with me wasn’t hard for you because you loved me and not having me in your life would take away your happiness. Breaking up with me was hard for you because that meant you failed. The sadness you felt had nothing to do with me as a person.
And you know I’m right.
I want you to know that I had never felt lower or more worthless. And the most fucked up thing is not how you led me on or how you walked away; it’s how I wanted to comfort you. I remember leaving your house after it all happened. I remember watching you cry as I backed out of the driveway and I remember wanting to get out of the car and console you.
You just fucking dumped me, and your well-being is all I could think about.
And as the days and weeks went on, despite what you did to me, I hoped you were doing okay. That’s how much I loved you. And that’s what you’ll never understand. And because of that, I feel sorry for you.
You truly believe you’re above everyone; that you have it all figured out. You truly think the grass is greener on the other side. I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. And I’m laughing as I say this because according to you, and everyone who knows you, you can never be wrong. You have this insane way of talking in circles until you convince yourself you’ve won the argument.
So I know you’d have a response to that comment, presenting to me the reasons why I’m wrong for saying you’re wrong. Regardless.
The grass isn’t always greener and people aren’t going to mold into your idea of ‘perfect.’ You have to accept them as they are. People aren’t fucking boxes to check. And I think you’ll learn that eventually. At least I hope you will.
You tried to mold me. I know you thought you were helping me, and don’t get me wrong, you did. And I know I cannot repay for the ways you helped me grow. But, it also made me feel like I wasn’t enough for you. I tried so fucking hard. So hard. Maybe you saw that and it’s why you walked away. You knew you could never match my effort.
I hate how everything I did and everything I was wasn’t enough for you. I hate that you couldn’t look at me and think “My God, she’s perfect.” Because that’s how I loved you. That’s how I saw you.
But mostly, I want you to know I’m fine without you. I’m sure you don’t care, but I’m telling you, I’m okay. I’m happy. I’m learning to love myself in a way you never could. I’ll always miss you. I’ll always love you. But the thought of you no longer controls my feelings.
I no longer see you through rose-colored glasses. And I’m more than a list of boxes. You cannot dictate my worth over the number I’ve checked off.
I won’t lie, those were the hardest months I’ve ever endured and I’m sure I’ll have days when I miss you terribly, but I am stronger and more resilient than you’ll ever be. I know now that you don’t deserve my heart. I’m sorry you couldn’t see its worth.
You’ll regret leaving me, I know this. You’ll deny it until the day you die because regretting your choice to leave means you were wrong. And you can never be wrong.
But that’s no longer my problem. So thank you for putting me through hell. Thank you for showing me the darkest days I’ve ever known because you’ve given me a strength I’ve never known. So you can shove that checklist up your ass because I no longer give a damn about fulfilling it.
The Girl Who Didn’t Check All the Boxes