You didn’t have to play me. Nobody said you had to be looking for a relationship, or wanting to date someone. Nobody came in with judgments, or wanting to shame you for having sex. You could’ve told me you were looking for a hookup, a quick thrill — it would’ve been fine. You could’ve been honest about that.

You didn’t have to pretend to want to be something more. You didn’t have to offer to call me, or take me out on dates. You didn’t have to pretend to be interested in my life, or the minutia of my day.

You didn’t have to look me in my eyes and tell me that I was beautiful. You didn’t have to give me soft smiles, and invite me into your life. You could have told me what you wanted. It would have been okay.

You didn’t have to keep me as a pawn in your game, week after week, month after month. You just didn’t have to.

You didn’t have to keep doing this just to get sex out of me.

But you did.

And then you cast me aside, like a piece of garbage. You ignore my texts, and my snaps, and my tweets. You put me behind you, finding some other more beautiful, or more cool, human to give you their attention and their body.

So you forget about me, and I try to forget about you.

And, months later, you didn’t have to try to slide back into my life. You didn’t have to pretend to want to be friends. You didn’t have to invite me to get coffee, and try to apologize. You could’ve just left me alone. You could’ve just let me heal.

But you didn’t.

And so you slid back into my DMs, and back into my life. You wanted to fuck my body and then my mind. You only text me at 1:00am, until I stopped responding.

You didn’t have to treat me this way. It didn’t have to end this way.

But it did.