You’re over me and moved on to the next. The evidence hit me like pack of wolves, stampeding out of this screen toward me with the little hashtag #wcw. You can’t fathom this hurt. I don’t care how many months it’s been, it still feels like betrayal from every angle. I know you can’t understand that, but goddamn.
On the plus side, it wasn’t the girl I’d suspected at first. And praise God that it wasn’t the one who came before me either. Please, never go back to her. But still, it was one that I’d trusted. One who was your good friend, but surely not more. Surely not.
I fucking hate being so wrong.
What happened to not having the heart to love someone? What happened to needing all that time for God to heal you? What happened to me being the only one who could break your “never again” resolve? What happened to all of that? What about our summer? What about everything that still lies ahead for us?
I guess maybe it’s time to stop writing you letters. I guess maybe she’s better for you, on paper at least. She’s what you want to be, and I just wasn’t. And I admire your drive to be better, but it breaks my heart to think you want to change when you are so astounding just the way you are.