I saw you last night.
First time since I “broke your heart.”
You called. I answered.
Your voice crackling with desperation, begging to see me.
No part of me wanted you.
Still, I went.
Two a.m. love.
Actually, not love.
Artificial connection. Sex.
I wanted to be touched, but not by you.
I don’t regret it, but I will never go back.
You pulled out.
Seeing you in front of me.
You begged me to stay, to let you hold me.
I felt claustrophobic, trapped.
No one in sight.
The silent streets gave me the answer I was looking for.
They whispered, “Never again.”
I trusted you once.
With my whole heart.
A trust unearned, undeserved.
You broke me.
Breaking my heart in a way you knew would sting.
The only kind I couldn’t justify.
Emotionally charged, historical, connected.
You were being too attentive.
Something was off.
I cracked the code to your iPad.
Four digits you hid so well.
I read the texts.
“Do you feel guilty about yesterday?”
You kissed her.
In the car.
The car we drove in together.
Her airpods in the center console.
Did you think I wouldn’t notice?
Me, a visitor.
Adjusting to your habits, your needs.
Being the good girl.
The one who does the laundry and the dishes.
The one who makes you coffee in the morning.
The one who cuts your hair because the barber is closed.
That’s not me.
Never has been.
But for you, I sacrificed.
Too much it seems.
Your family telling me how happy you looked.
Not happy enough.
You were greedy.
Needing attention from your girlfriend and your ex.
I wanted mine too.
Instead, I channeled it into you.
All my love wasted.
You were never capable.
I knew that.
You’re obsessed with me.
Of course you are.
You watched me walk away.
You see what you lost.
My ass out the door, your ass stepping in.
I saw the light on the other side, you finally saw it in me.
You only started giving because you got caught.
You fucked me, thinking of her.
Now, you will fuck another, thinking of me.