You didn't fight.

I am so fucking mad at you.

You let me look like a fool in front of EVERYONE.

You let me continue to pass on the bullshit about how we were still OK. How I talked to you every day. How you were struggling, but still hanging in there.

You left me here with all the mess. You let me rob my bank accounts to cover your fuck-ups. You continued to take my love, my trust, my dignity … when you knew you were never coming back.

Who does that? Who the fuck does that to someone they love? Or loved? It makes you an asshole.

Don’t tell me you had no way out. That’s not true and you know it.

Don’t tell me you couldn’t talk to me about it. I have 12,000 texts that say otherwise.

Don’t tell me it was unfixable. All things are fixable if you want them fixed.

I am not the ogre here. I am not the one who didn’t try. You think you’re tired of fighting? What fight did you put up? I was the one here, fighting for you every damn day.

You ran away. You moved three times and had someone to talk to every single day. Someone who cares about you and looks out for you and smiles at you and snuggles up on you.

I think you’re feeling guilty about that. Shame. And it hurts.

But let’s be clear. You didn’t get tired from fighting.

You didn’t fight.

 

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