You used a lot of clichés when you broke up: I will always love you, you’re my best friend and I don’t want to lose that, it’s not you it’s me. Now I’m doing what you didn’t have the balls to do. I’m making it a clean break, and I’m doing it using another cliché: Love changes everything, I can’t be your friend, it’s all or nothing.
I don’t want you anymore. But it still rips me apart to know that you want someone else.
I don’t think about you anymore during the day. But at night, you often appear as a nightmare, haunting my sleep and making my next day utterly shit.
Every time I think of how whipped I am for you, I actually get a little nauseous. I haven’t decided if this part of the recovery process or not.
I should have realized I didn’t have a chance with you, but I kept letting myself believe your phone was broken.
You had this quality about you that made everyone you meet fall in love with you, it was because of this you never even began to notice that I had fallen irrevocably and devastatingly in love with you.
Our eyes met last friday. Does he know that you still love only me?
I removed you from all of my social networks, deleted your number from my contacts, and spent countless moments venting about you to my friends. But the only think that has managed to give me any bit of closure is knowing that I’m prettier than her.
I didn’t though.
You would love my new hair. Come back and play with it please.
I liked it better when you loved me, but I guess the novelty of loving me finally fizzled out.
You no longer deserve the words I want to say to you, so I’ll send them on here instead. What I really wanted to tell you, what you don’t care to hear, is that you were the only light I saw for 5 years, and now the whole world seems dark.
Four years later, and I’ve finally met someone who’s turned you into past.
You were one of the most materialistic people I’ve ever met; you only valued things by their monetary worth. Maybe that’s why I got such a rush when I threw out all of the expensive crap you gave me. It might have been wasteful, but it felt like I finally got the last word in.
I loved you. But I never liked how your brain worked. You had the most childish and meaningless ideas, and I guess that’s why we never connected. But I dont blame you. I guess it’s my fault for looking for someone who knew how to overthink.
There You go
I learned this year that you can’t smoke and cry at the same time. There you go, you turned me into a chain smoker, among other things.
He’s just like you, in almost every way. It’s kind of comforting, familiar almost. He calls me perfect, just like you did. But I know it’s because I already made the mistakes with you. You are my type, he’s just the newer software update.
After a year an a half of mind speeding, heart racing, eye watering, nerve racking thoughts…I saw you at a party last night. There were talks and smiles and laughs and it was so easy.
The love we made does not seem worth making. But, maybe I can’t let it go because you always kept me wanting more.
I only had sex with him because you had sex with her.
I read your Facebook status about her. You misspelled “patience.” I am burning everything I own of yours as soon as I get home.
I watched the meteor shower, thinking of you the whole time. I knew you were watching it to, but I doubt you thought of me as well.
We have had so many nice naps together. Naps when you drooled on my shoulder. 100 degree naps in the top bunk. Naps at the library when we should have been writing our papers. Naps in your comforter cloud. I would give anything to sleep beside you now.
It didn’t hurt when you broke all your promises. It didn’t hurt when you gave me the cold shoulder for a month. It didn’t hurt when you changed your relationship status on our two month anniversary, something you made sure to point out. It didn’t hurt when you called me unimportant. It hurt like hell when you called me by my first name instead of my nickname.
My number one turn off: chest hair. That day I saw you wearing v-neck scrubs, I got a peak of your very hairy chest. I did not even cringe. I guess you were my exception.
When I imagine my wedding, it doesn’t seem right for you to be there as just a guest. You’ve been such a big part in shaping who I am, that it’s even harder to imagine you not being there. So I guess we’re gonna have to get married.
I remain convinced that if I had been Jewish and tiny, we would be picking out our wedding china by now.
Do you really think that telling me that you want to soak my nipples in whiskey is going to make me weak in the knees? Or make me forget you have a wife?
I picked up your old habit of calling people “darling.” Trouble is, you’re the only one I ever found truly darling.
Since I left you, I don’t have dreams that tornadoes are sawing through my house anymore, but I miss them, and I miss you.
Not seeing you isn’t the problem. Not talking, messaging, or texting you isn’t the problem either. It’s the memories and the dreams that cause me so much grief.
I just remembered how wonderfully minty you tasted after brushing your teeth––wonderfully weird.
We can stop being together, but we can’t stop being perfect together.
Energy can never be lost or created. So I send my love out. Even though it can’t go to you anymore, I like to think that it goes somewhere, serves some purpose…
Because of you I am now against circumcision, your skin was lovely.
Not About Me
I still check your Tumblr every day, & it kills me how all the love-posts you reblog aren’t about me anymore; they’re about him.
Our summer thing was summer bummer. Mainly because you weren’t happy with me or yourself.
Here is the long-lost single of YOU ARE GOOD AT THINGS: A Checklist. The book is a great way to shore up confidence at this back-to-school time. Discover the many things you are good at, like: Making elaborate crayon drawings on paper tablecloths Being familiar with the mass transit systems of many cities Waxing philosophical about visible panty lines Knowing alphabetical order without having...
When you sat on my lap and fiddled with my hair, I felt like I mattered.
You always said that you were the Rhett Butler to my Scarlet O’Hara. How could you leave me for a Melanie Wilkes?
Tonight on a beer run saw the Rolling Rock on top of the Pabst––looked a little like us once upon a time.
I miss you more than I should. Sometimes I still expect to see your name on the phone…I have so many little things that I just ache to tell you about.
You told me I was the “one that got away.” But I didn’t “get away” from you. Even when I’m with him, I’m with you. I never even wanted to “get away.”
That one time we kissed is killing me––I want to relive that moment forever.
You Be Careful
You be careful and I’ll be the reckless one.
Fourteen months later, I’m finally interested in someone else. But he likes my co-worker. Even though it’s an innocent crush, it felt oddly nice to hurt over someone other than you.
After our inability to have a baby tore our marriage apart, I got knocked up by a one night stand. I’m still not sure if I should laugh or cry at this situation.
Your ear smelled like a moldy shower curtain; I suppose I could only overlook that for so long, plus you didn’t believe in flossing.
He kisses me the way I always wanted you to.
At this point I’m more likely to see you in WoW than IRL.