Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t snap me. Don’t tag me in cute Facebook videos. Don’t ask my family or my friends how I’m doing. If you see me in a bar or around town, don’t come and say hello to me. If you pass me on the street, keep walking.
I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want anything to do with you.
That may sound harsh, but the reality is that there is no reason for us to talk anymore. We don’t have to make small talk about our days. We don’t have to ask what is on the other person’s mind. We don’t have to harbor resentment anymore. We’re free, so why not spread our wings and fly?
Our friendship ended with our romance, and even calling us acquaintances at this point would be generous. We don’t have to pretend to care more than we do, so why bother speaking at all?
We had our run, and we had our fun, but the run got exhausting and the fun stopped altogether. Our flickering flame burned out, and our time in the sun set. That may sound harsh, but it’s the truth.
We’re the same side of two different magnets. Any attraction between us had to be forced and would not take naturally. There are times when I think we held on so tight to each other that our bodies eventually gave out, and then are other times when I think we just stopped trying and let go willingly.
I don’t hate you. I never have, nor do I think I ever could. We were just never meant to be lovers.
We probably were never meant to be friends. Hell, maybe we were never meant to exist in each other’s lives whatsoever. Above all of this, I still want the best for you.
I want you to be happy. I want you to find the lover you want, the best friend you need, and the person you always dreamed about. I just don’t want to hear about it. I don’t need to hear about the passion between you two that was never there with us. I don’t need to see how he makes you happier than I ever could.
I cannot be the shoulder to cry or the attentive ear when he makes you upset. It’s easier to just walk away and never look back. It’s easier to accept our time together and move on. It’s easier to pretend like you don’t exist.
That may sound harsh, but I’d rather tell you an ugly truth than a beautiful lie.