Dear John,

The truth is, I don’t miss you at all. I just miss the way you made me feel. No matter how mad or sad, or not-in-the-mood I was, you always cared to ask. Something I could never do. The truth is, I never liked you the way you wanted me to, in fact, I only ever gave three fucks about you. I just thought of you as my next book to read. I never thought you’d end up feeling some type of way. The truth is, you’re a good man…a really good man…physically, emotionally, and financially…which makes you vulnerable to money hungry vultures. ‘You’re the type of person that can’t say no to people’ – That was always your biggest weakness, but at the same time, I think that’s one of the things that make you the really good man that you are. The truth is, most of the time we spent knowing each other, I pitied you. I told you then and I’ll tell you again – I still do. The truth is, your expectation of what could have been, ruined the reality of what actually was. The truth is, I almost gave you all of the fucks I had left. But everybody knows that love is pain and pain is temporary.

I mean this shit sincerely.


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