It just had to be in the club huh?
The one time I turn my back..it's somebody else.
And I am stupid, because I stayed.
I hate the different perfume scents
The different lies, you tell me every time
The kisses, the hugs, the sex
I hate it, I hate you
I hate that I love you so much.
I hate your "I love you's" because. They are lies.
I hate your kisses because they have no meaning.
I hate the different perfumes because it's someone else.
I hate that I know I'm not good enough for you but I stayed.
I hate that even throughout it, I still love you
I hate that I still welcome you even after you night outs.
I hate watching you go out.
I hate that i cry for you
I hate having to hear from others that your with someone else.
I hate that it's not me
I hate that you don't love me anymore.
It was 3 AM when the door creaked open, and you stumbled in,
reeking of alcohol and that familiar mix of perfumes.
I was sitting on the couch, knees pulled to my chest, waiting—again.
You barely glanced at me as you made your way to the bedroom,
shedding your clothes as if you were shedding the night, leaving a trail of betrayal behind you.
I followed, quietly, because that's what I always did.
I stood in the doorway as you collapsed onto the bed, oblivious to the tears streaming down my face.
You mumbled something incoherent, your voice slurred and distant, before you drifted into a deep sleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
This time was different, though. This time, I had already packed my bags. I had written the letter.
I had made up my mind.
As I watched you sleep, the anger and pain boiled inside me.
I hated you for what you had done to us, to me.
But more than anything, I hated myself for letting it happen, for loving you so much that I had lost myself in the process.
I walked to the bed and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face.
You stirred, but didn't wake. I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, my lips trembling as they made contact with your skin.
It was the last kiss I'd ever give you, the last time I'd let myself feel this heartbreak.
With trembling hands, I placed the letter on the pillow beside you.
It was everything I could never say out loud, all the words I had swallowed over the years, all the pain I had hidden behind forced smiles.
The letter was my goodbye, my final act of love.
I picked up my bags and walked out of the room, my heart shattering with every step I took.
The house was eerily silent, the only sound the soft creak of the floorboards beneath my feet.
As I reached the front door, I paused, taking one last look around the place that had once been our home.
The memories flooded back—our laughter, our late-night talks, the way you used to hold me as if I was your entire world.
But those moments felt like a lifetime ago, distant echoes of a love that had long since died.
I took a deep breath and stepped outside, closing the door behind me.
The night air was cold, biting against my skin as I walked away from the house, from you, from everything we had built together.
I knew this was the only way, that I had to save what little was left of myself before there was nothing left to salvage.
The tears didn't stop, but I didn't turn back. I couldn't.
This time, I had to be strong. This time, I had to let go. I have to let go of you...Time
As I reached the end of the street, the sky began to lighten, the first rays of dawn breaking through the darkness.
It was a new day, a new beginning.
But for the first time, it wasn't a day we would face together or even thought we would.
I walked into the the streets of Bangkok, carrying the weight of a love that had broken me.
And even though it hurt, even though it felt like I was leaving a piece of my soul behind, I kept going.
Because sometimes, the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.
So even though I love you, I am letting you go
