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**vent** ignore if you don't want to hear me letting some stuff out

Dear Him,

One day, when your fuq boi parts don't work, and you're too ugly, disgusting and unfulfilled for your ego to matter, you'll think of me. And you'll feel so fecking stupid.

I shouldn't be here, physically, mentally or spiritually. I should of left and stayed gone, every time I tried. I couldn't win the battle for my better self and settled for rotten scraps, fed on them for years. Until they made me weak and sick.

I am here because of you.

However, the insight you gave me into myself is what ultimately led to the pathetic, sobbing demise of my lowest self. Walking in the rain crying. Pity. Desperation. This is the defeat of my lowest self.

My better self isn't amused. Her bags have been packed and unpacked so many times, she doesn't even care about any of that stuff. Tons of stuff. Not all your fault.

But one day you'll realize, everything that is weighing you down, all your stuff, I'd of helped you toss it over a cliff. I'd of done the work with you, together.

But in the end of us, you chose your stuff. You used it to build a wall between us. Now, thanks to you, I am ready to let go. You've shown me what my future would be like if I'd rather tote around my bs.

I know all the things you'll miss baby. I remember every nook of you inside and out. I loved you and the stuff you held.

I don't regret the love I gave you and still have for you. In time you will fade out of my heart. My mind often forgot the bad parts. So trust the fond memories are stored. But my heart will never forget what you put it through, and my best self will find it's way out after this pity party is over.
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MartinTheFirst · 26-30, M