Fuck you. I hate to start abruptly but fuck you. No matter what I tried, how hard I tried to improve, how incredibly involved I got, how terribly I felt because I knew I wasn't enough, you still left. You left when I needed you, craved you, wanted you, relied on you. I despise your existence and the fact that you're so much better off without me. I don't need you, I don't need any of this. I've replaced you with materialistic possessions, financial gain, and routine. Irreplaceable doesn't even begin to describe you, I don't want to replace you, why should I?
I tried to do what was best for a future you knew you weren't going to be a part of and left me to build it. I'm not your backup, I'm not your security, I'm not your cushion. I'm everything or nothing, pick one. I'm so glad I got rid of your hands, your sweet, supple hands that contrasted my blisters and calluses, out of my life so I could move on. I deserved better than you and certainly didn't deserve to be led on for so long. How stupid do you think I am? Do you really think I could be happy? Have someone to love and cherish? Be able to show human emotion for once? Do everything for one person? Of course not. I'm void of your venom and my bloodstream now runs pure. Each cell, healed. No longer do I have to fear of being hurt or crushed. Your venom with it's sweet taste and exhilarating high only lasts for a brief moment only to leave me with regret and a bad taste in my mouth. I can't get enough of you because of how utterly disgusted I am that you could do this to me. I want more of you but I know I won't get it. I'm going to kill myself trying to acquire a fix. I want you back... back in the time before we knew each other. I can't make up my fucking mind because the rosy tint in my mind is too heavy and my vision is impaired by the sight of you, glowing like a dying star.
I did so much for you and you took it for granted, now you're with someone else who values you more than I ever could. I was never photogenic enough, never popular enough, never presentable enough. I spent months saving money to treat you, weeks convincing your parents to let me take you somewhere, days planning it, and nights dreaming about it. I moved silently, making sure not to ruin the surprise. Getting in touch with your coworkers and begging them to cover your shifts, working longer hours to assure that I would have enough to reimburse you for the time lost when you could've been working. I thought of everything, planned for every contingency, prepared for every scenario, except one. Except for the one where you didn't want to. Shit, you didn't want me. There's nothing I can do about that apart from watch the thread keeping me together wisp away into someone else's arms. I'm sorry.
