Pardon the terrible grammar that is to follow... you might want to turn back now.
Get out, get out, get out! I was fine without thinking about you and then you go and haunt my nightmares and my facebook and I hate you. But I miss you, and what I thought we had, and laying in bed trying to go to sleep but you being silly and tossing and turning to make me laugh until I cried, and the way you looked into my eyes while you fucked me instead of looking away like everyone else always has, and how when we got back together we talked on the phone for 3 hours and you wouldn't hang up even though we both had to wake up for work/class 4 hours later. I miss the way you pulled me close when you hadn't seen me in a week. I miss how we went to see a movie every week, I haven't seen one since because the thought of going with someone else makes me sad. And I hate remembering that first night I stayed at your place, I left to go home that night but you called and told me you couldn't sleep another night without having me in your arms just once more. And I miss you, most of you, 75% of you, maybe only 50%.
GET OUT! Because I hate the way that I was never important enough for the first 4 months of us being whatever we were you didn't want to be my boyfriend, but 5 days after you called it off you wanted me back and I let you back in. And I hate the way you never held me when we went to sleep, you didn't even try to cuddle. And I hate the way you never told me I was pretty except when you did something that hurt me prior. And I hate that I ALMOST let you ruin Brand New for me, how can you drive 4 hours with someone to see their favorite band (since they were 13) for the first time ever and leave them the next day? THAT is why I've seen them twice since then, because I refused to have the only time I see them be with a man that broke my heart. And I hate how you made me turn the tv off before we went to sleep because you couldn't stand the noise, even though I'm terrified of the dark. And I hate the way you fucked Kimmi not even two months into whatever we were and only told me about it because I asked, atleast you were honest. And I hate how you STILL have naked pictures of her on your laptop and I knew it all along but I could never bring myself to talk to you about them because I knew it wouldn't matter. And I FUCKING hate the fact that you compared me to Jess for 3 FUCKING months before I got you to stop saying them outloud, but instead you'd just giggle when I said I liked something that she apparently did. And it disgusts me that you still have her pictures in your wallet, no one will ever be good enough for you because you're stuck on the one crazy bitch that thought she would never be good enough for you so she kept an anorexia diary (that you have on your dresser) about her progress to be skinny to make you want her. When I first saw it I didn't know why she would think she had to lose weight, until you started talking about how you loved tight flat stomachs. I hate that I'm not skinny enough for you, or tan enough for you and that you tried to make me go tanning. FUCK YOU for trying to give me cancer, I'm pale and fucking beautiful. I hate that when I asked you to mail my lube back that we NEVER used, because you didn't touch me for the last month we were together, you also sent back the tooth brush I kept at your place just to rip me to shreads again when I was finally pulling all the pieces back into place. And I hate that despite all of the bullshit, of the terrible things you did to me and made me feel the only thing I can think about when I am laying alone in my bed (which happens rarely these days) is that all I want is you next to me making me laugh or asleep on the other side of the bed so I can reach my arm across and touch your back or run my fingers down your chest. I hate that despite the fact that I have stumbled across an amazing man that tells me I am beautiful every chance he gets it isn't enough because you and every other guy like you I've dated have fucked me up. I hate that deep down I really want you to be happy, but deeper down I hope you get HERPES.
Get out, get out, please get out. I can't take compliments and I can't deal with people being genuine with me because I just feel like I'm being lied to. I opened up to you and told you my deepest secret and you spit in my face over and over again. I'm not as strong as I pretend to me, the stern lines in my face aren't from me being strong. They are from me trying not to cry about the things I let people do to me that have hurt me, especially you. Out of all the people that have fucked me over, and fucked me, you have done the most damage. It took you 5 months to pry so deep into my existance that I don't know what to do.
Get out, get out, get the fuck out. I don't want to think about you anymore. I don't want to think about how when I ASKED you to make your status on facebook "in a relationship" you just up and fucking delete your account. Only to wake up two days ago to see that your account is reactivated and your dating some skinny tan bimbo with HERPES and that you're OPEN about it. You can't let people know that you're dating an AMAZING woman, but you can let them know you're dating a slut? Were you ashamed of my curves, because most MEN would kill to date or even fuck a girl with tits like mine. So fuck you.
This is my final goodbye, or maybe not. But I hope so because I deserve all that this new man has to give. The sleeping all night in his arms held like I'm in a vice grip, waking up to him telling me I'm beautiful and that he loves my translucent skin, being able to joke with him and not feel like he is putting me down, feeling like he actually fucking cares.
Get out, get out, get out for good.
Get out, get out, get out! I was fine without thinking about you and then you go and haunt my nightmares and my facebook and I hate you. But I miss you, and what I thought we had, and laying in bed trying to go to sleep but you being silly and tossing and turning to make me laugh until I cried, and the way you looked into my eyes while you fucked me instead of looking away like everyone else always has, and how when we got back together we talked on the phone for 3 hours and you wouldn't hang up even though we both had to wake up for work/class 4 hours later. I miss the way you pulled me close when you hadn't seen me in a week. I miss how we went to see a movie every week, I haven't seen one since because the thought of going with someone else makes me sad. And I hate remembering that first night I stayed at your place, I left to go home that night but you called and told me you couldn't sleep another night without having me in your arms just once more. And I miss you, most of you, 75% of you, maybe only 50%.
GET OUT! Because I hate the way that I was never important enough for the first 4 months of us being whatever we were you didn't want to be my boyfriend, but 5 days after you called it off you wanted me back and I let you back in. And I hate the way you never held me when we went to sleep, you didn't even try to cuddle. And I hate the way you never told me I was pretty except when you did something that hurt me prior. And I hate that I ALMOST let you ruin Brand New for me, how can you drive 4 hours with someone to see their favorite band (since they were 13) for the first time ever and leave them the next day? THAT is why I've seen them twice since then, because I refused to have the only time I see them be with a man that broke my heart. And I hate how you made me turn the tv off before we went to sleep because you couldn't stand the noise, even though I'm terrified of the dark. And I hate the way you fucked Kimmi not even two months into whatever we were and only told me about it because I asked, atleast you were honest. And I hate how you STILL have naked pictures of her on your laptop and I knew it all along but I could never bring myself to talk to you about them because I knew it wouldn't matter. And I FUCKING hate the fact that you compared me to Jess for 3 FUCKING months before I got you to stop saying them outloud, but instead you'd just giggle when I said I liked something that she apparently did. And it disgusts me that you still have her pictures in your wallet, no one will ever be good enough for you because you're stuck on the one crazy bitch that thought she would never be good enough for you so she kept an anorexia diary (that you have on your dresser) about her progress to be skinny to make you want her. When I first saw it I didn't know why she would think she had to lose weight, until you started talking about how you loved tight flat stomachs. I hate that I'm not skinny enough for you, or tan enough for you and that you tried to make me go tanning. FUCK YOU for trying to give me cancer, I'm pale and fucking beautiful. I hate that when I asked you to mail my lube back that we NEVER used, because you didn't touch me for the last month we were together, you also sent back the tooth brush I kept at your place just to rip me to shreads again when I was finally pulling all the pieces back into place. And I hate that despite all of the bullshit, of the terrible things you did to me and made me feel the only thing I can think about when I am laying alone in my bed (which happens rarely these days) is that all I want is you next to me making me laugh or asleep on the other side of the bed so I can reach my arm across and touch your back or run my fingers down your chest. I hate that despite the fact that I have stumbled across an amazing man that tells me I am beautiful every chance he gets it isn't enough because you and every other guy like you I've dated have fucked me up. I hate that deep down I really want you to be happy, but deeper down I hope you get HERPES.
Get out, get out, please get out. I can't take compliments and I can't deal with people being genuine with me because I just feel like I'm being lied to. I opened up to you and told you my deepest secret and you spit in my face over and over again. I'm not as strong as I pretend to me, the stern lines in my face aren't from me being strong. They are from me trying not to cry about the things I let people do to me that have hurt me, especially you. Out of all the people that have fucked me over, and fucked me, you have done the most damage. It took you 5 months to pry so deep into my existance that I don't know what to do.
Get out, get out, get the fuck out. I don't want to think about you anymore. I don't want to think about how when I ASKED you to make your status on facebook "in a relationship" you just up and fucking delete your account. Only to wake up two days ago to see that your account is reactivated and your dating some skinny tan bimbo with HERPES and that you're OPEN about it. You can't let people know that you're dating an AMAZING woman, but you can let them know you're dating a slut? Were you ashamed of my curves, because most MEN would kill to date or even fuck a girl with tits like mine. So fuck you.
This is my final goodbye, or maybe not. But I hope so because I deserve all that this new man has to give. The sleeping all night in his arms held like I'm in a vice grip, waking up to him telling me I'm beautiful and that he loves my translucent skin, being able to joke with him and not feel like he is putting me down, feeling like he actually fucking cares.
Get out, get out, get out for good.