Dear you,
You’re not who I thought you were. You’re not who anybody thought you were. The recent information that’s come out about you feels like a 9 inch blade to my back and through my heart. I can’t believe I let you touch me. I still feel your hands and lips all over my body. I’m disgusted with myself, and ashamed. I know it’s not my fault. You were an amazing, pronominal actor. You had every single person around you fooled. I would award you an Oscar if I held that power. But I can’t help but feel so mad at myself for not seeing through you. And I gave you exactly what you wanted. I played right into the palm of your hand. Just like my father warned me not to do. The one person you didn’t have fooled and he never even met you face to face. I wish I had listened. I wish I could erase everything that happened between us. I hate you. But I still can’t help but feel this longing. Like what we could have been if you had just been who I thought you were. But that’s not who you are. And you will never be that. What’s worse is it’s not just me you lied to. You lied and backstabbed every single one of our colleagues. Of our friends. I hate that a part of me is still missing you. But I want so badly to move on and pretend like you never happened. And that’s what I plan to do. When we first split ways I still wished you the best. But after hearing everything about you, I don’t think anything could make me happier than your downfall.
From, K
I had to share this somewhere.