the aftermath

{06.02.2017}

I hate your guts, and I hate you. You played me like a game, screwed me over just for me to fall for you. I gave you my heart, something precious, as well as my trust. You saw me cry, more than once, and then broke my heart and broke the trust I had in you. After we ended, you talked me down and allowed your friends to do the same, even worse. You dragged my name through the mud, over it with a truck, again and again. Spoiled my good reputation because you couldn't maturely handle a breakup like a civilized human being.

I have finally reached a point, where seeing you only makes me cry because it makes me sick. I trusted you, so much, and I tried. Only for you to completely ruin that. You let your friends, our friends, hate me. I'm not, and never was, everything that you crack me up to be, and you know that. You've seen me at my worst and at my best, but I know the things that trigger you the most. I know not only what you do, but what you've done, and you've only shown me that you're not the same boy that I cared about so much.

So if you're going to talk me down, just know it makes you look worse.

But then, you have the nerve to text me from someone else's phone, just to tell me that I should kill myself. And to cuss me out, classy. "Do everyone a favor," right? Because they'd be better off that way?