August 04, 2022

 

"Get out" by Jojo has been the theme of today. That and "Soy El Unico" by Yaritza Martinez. An open letter to my current, stupid boyfriend (who's not stupid at all, I just say stupid because he makes me so angry and gives me so much pain. Meanwhile he's sitting pretty, untouched by karma/Spirit. "For a reason," he says. Anyways...):

I don't like the word hate, but just know the only time I say that word is specifically if it's directed at you. Not just at things you do, like say 'like' way too much or freak out when I hit the curb, but I hate you in specific. I don't hate anything, but you. I fucking hate you. I HATE YOU so fucking much. Maybe I'm blowing this whole thing out of proportions, and I know that in the end we're more than fine, but fuck. What you did to me can not leave me fully. I am a wounded woman, and I hate that. But I hate you worst of all. I hate you for making me feel like this. I've never and I mean never felt such heartbreak from someone. Yeah when Daija (my best friend for anyone seeing this) died, I felt fucking pain, but this almost feels worse. At least I KNOW she's safe, and at peace. I can live with that. But fuck, to live with you here, knowing ALL the things you've said and done behind me back (if I know all of it, which I'm sure I don't and I mean that in the most "you probably fucked her or someone else you worthless piece of shit" way ever.) To have to live with you everyday, see you, and look at you EVERYDAY, as if I'm not totally crippled inside because of you, is fucking excruciating. For a while, I stopped seeing her name everywhere, I stopped thinking about her, and her and you and you and her. It stopped, and now I'm here. Bawling my eyes out, like I'd just discovered it all yesterday. I might send you this later, just so you know how I'm feeling since you want to know so bad, so why not get it all out now I guess; I HATE how you don't make it special anymore: You stopped playing me music, just like the day we crashed when I had my scare in high school. But you could make something for someone else, someone who I don't even know. Someone who I've never seen (as far as I know but who knows), someone who came to your house unannounced while WE should've been together. Puppies, that was your excuse. fucking DOGS were your excuse. ANd you know what the worst part is, not just the fact that you told me that two years ago and I STILL remember it because it enver left, or the fact that I'm breaking down so bad right now at fucking 9:05 pm over this as if its fresh, but the fact that this is blocking my whole life. I can't get to my purpose because this. This is like a huge hill I can't can't seem to climb all the way over, and it's putting a block on my life purpose. Even worse I KNOW THAT. I know this is my block, and when I fully forgive for real, my purpose is going to be clear as day. And everything is going to be a fucking breeze; But right now, it's not. It feels better letting this out, but I know that I'm gonna read this to you tomorrow, or send this to you later, so I'm still filtering. I'm gonna stop and say wtf is really on my mind uncensored. I think this might be alot, but idc. It might even be more bc I should read you what I wrote the other day about you, my version of the story I read about 'the other woman' that you didn't pick up on bc you are so fucking clueless. I hate you. I'm remembering the night in your car in my head and it's coming back like a montage between right now in this moment and you that night. Your smiling face, the way you looked in your drivers seat, your coat I love, the way you smelled, your radio screen. Your phone that told me the truth versus the lies coming our of your mouth. Your eyes. Ugh sorry y'all. This has obviously been a huge thing for me if anyone has read this far. YOU, you must've went and bumped your head, because you left her number on your phone. Now I'm seeing the first day you came to my house. You in my bed, me on you, interrupted by a phone call. 

Sky, it said on your watch

You looked and I stupidly asked if you were gonna get that even though I UFCKING KNEW who it was. 

You said no and brushed it off. 

How fucking cruel are you. Stringing this girl along, and me. How dare you make her a music playlist like you did when we were kids, when it was special for ME. How dare you do that now. How dare you not do that now. Just, how dare you for all of it. How dare you come into my life and make me feel like this. How dare you smile in my face, hiding the truth. Not just then, but now. You look at me and smile and I just wonder what your eyes have seen. WHat your hiding when you smile and look at me all sweet and innocent. You, fucking kill me. I think you're the reason I look so bad because I'm so hurt. I'm gonna send this to you right now, and I'm just gonna leave it. I don't want to see you until tomorrow, because now it's 9:17 and I've spent way too much time on you already. I'll always wonder when were together. When I look at you. When we have sex, not love. When I say you're my favorite and you can't seem to say it back. Are you reserving that title to someone you once called your favorite person (yes I stalked ur twitter u fucking bitch ((lol)), or is it because you really meant that and still do? I'm gonna most definitely send you this. I can't say all these things in person or with my mouth without feeling so insecure and embarrassed, even though I shouldn't because I have a fucking right to be insecure-ish after being cheated on/played. I'll always wonder why you said, while we were officially dating, that your parents saw you "fuck," because it wasn't with me at this point. I'll always, and I mean always wonder. Not just these things but about you in general. About you being with me. Why, how, is it for real or is this just something that needs to be resolved to I can have a real love with someone who really loves me, even though I know that someone is you. I GUESS, saying it in a smiling way now because you know I'm stubborn. I'm gonna send this to you and explain tomorrow if you read this. Goodnight. 


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