Dear Dickhead,
First of all, let me begin by saying I’m so glad that you are no longer in my life. You are a rotten person, through and through. I’m doing great, although I know you don’t actually care about how I’m doing. You never asked me how I was, that always made me feel so sad. If we were nothing else, were we not old friends?
At this point, I don’t even want to be your friend, which goes against everything I believe in. I believe in forgiveness and acceptance that the past is something that we should reflect but not dwell on. I’ve had to make exceptions for you because you’re a special kind of cunt. So, in truth, I wish you the very worst in life because that’s what you deserve. I feel guilty even saying that to you but that just proves that I’m a better person than you could ever hope to be.
I have a couple of unanswered questions that I’d like to ask. We both know why you never answered them. If you had told me the truth, why would I have ever let you worm your way back inside my head? That, I’ve now learned, is the sweet art of manipulation.
Did you ever even have any feelings for me? I don’t understand how you could have treated me the way you did if you had felt something for me. If you didn’t, why on earth did you keep up the charade for all this time? Did you enjoy playing cat and mouse with me? I may have played the game for quite a while but you knew, deep down, that I had feelings for you and you used that to your advantage when I was most vulnerable. How could you do that to me?
Do you have any remorse for the way you treated me? Or have you plastered the wall up along with the rest of your dirty past? I hope you feel the pain, shed the tears and attempt to move on from the misery that is to have a broken heart. I want you to know how much it hurt each time you ripped my heart out and stomped all over it. Then, when you’ve put it back in your chest, stitched the wound and the skin is being to heal, I want her to rip it out again. And again. And again. Just so you know.
“You know how I feel, don’t be stupid.”
“Why are you being so paranoid?”
“They don't need to know about us, it's none of their business anyway!”
I hope these are the answers she gives you when you ask the questions I asked. I hope the ambiguity kills you. I hope it eats you up inside. I hope you become so insecure that you don’t feel like you can trust your own thoughts anymore. I thought that’s what crazy, stupid love was all about. Now, I realise that you twisted my mind so much that I had become a person I didn’t recognise anymore.
When I look in the mirror these days, what do I see? I see a beautiful, caring, open person who made a very bad choice to let you into my life. I’ll never look back.
With all the hate and anger in my heart,
Amy
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