I hope this message finds you well. I want to start with making sure you know I give up. My effort to convince you that you were better failed. You can have the false sense of pride of “winning” but let’s face it, winning doesn’t taste sweet when you have lost me. So how does it feel? You picked everything but me, and now you’ve forced my hand. I have to pick me now. You will not forget me, even if you drink yourself into a coma. How could you forget a man so far out of your league? I wish that was spiteful but it’s not. My dear, I was a quality that you will never find again. So you can have this win. Keep the “pride” that comes with your “victory”. Time and new love interests will help me forget your face, but never the lessons. You made sure to rinse and repeat the hurt enough for that scar to be too prominent. Stay apathetic dearest Syd. Stay damaged. Be the forever victim. You will always be a prisoner to your own heart but I am free. This pain is temporary and will pass, but you will always have the questions linger. I’ll find a woman worth all the effort I poured into you. I will be the me that you put down due to your own insecurities. I will love, I will progress and I will be unapologetically me. And you will walk in the minefields of a man who somehow deserves less. I do not hate you, I just need the void to hear me. You are the last person I will ever drop my standards of human beings for. Your words were pretty, but your heart got so ugly. That’s how it goes when you invite that kind of energy into your life. That’s why I won’t let your energy affect mine, not anymore. I’ve never been a fortune teller, but I know there is not a future that has an “us” any more. I settled on friendship and you found a way to spit on that. These are the last of my words to you. The last naivety left in me thinks you might read this. But even my heart won’t take that bet. You watered my garden with gasoline, so don’t be surprised that our garden was one of death.
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