I’m mad at you. Very mad. I was so understanding with your situation I didn’t realize how shit I was feeling because of it. And you didn’t care. I feel used. So much. I was in this from the beginning, with my whole heart. I was a very good support for you, and in exchange, you ditched me. 

I was making so many excuses for you, while you just started ignoring me. It’s okay if you don’t have the capacity to care for other people, but why didn’t you say something? Anything? Why keep me in the dark? I didn’t deserve that. I really didn’t. 

 I went from feeling seen to being overlooked real quick. You knew you wouldn’t come back within a few months. I asked how long this process would be, and you told me you didn’t know. I asked for a time interval, and you told me a month. But you knew it wouldn’t be just a month. I knew too. I asked, Will this take six months? You told me: No way! You’ll be back soon! It seemed we’d be able to keep this thing alive, but you stopped talking to me. And the one month passed. And the second one. And you still didn’t tell me anything. You thought I’d be fine, but I’m not. I told you, many times. I expressed my needs, I tried to meet you in the middle, but you ignored me. 

 I’m in the same situation again as always. I self-sacrificed without anyone asking me to. I just assumed things would be different this time. But no, nothing is different. I was believing a man — his sweet words, the intensity, this high which feels so good — but I was let down again so fast. Oh my god. It’s very comfortable for you to hide behind this tragedy and not take any accountability. If you had a backbone, you would’ve told me in the beginning to just stop. Stop this stupid “friendship.” 

 I got hooked on your emotional unavailability. I always knew that, but I was trying to blame myself. You are going through so much, why would I make a thing about this? I don’t even know you. But then our last conversation happened. “I just want to have fun.” “I still like you, very, very much, but I don’t know what’ll happen.” “If I were near you, I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you…” It was so different. Weird. Like the person I knew disappeared. Or maybe you were just showing your true colors. 

You have nothing here in Prague, I get that. You want to feel connected, I understand. But pulling away from me, hiding information from me… It’s just fucking cruel. So I had to end it. I’m so proud I did, but I find myself still lurking around the idea of you. The fantasy. Which version of you is the real you? Is there a real you? I hate that feeling. I let someone close, and they used me to feel better about themselves — again. I have to take responsibility for my part, I know I was running ahead. But you planted this idea in me. “We might get married.” What? WHAT? We were talking about living together, adoption, traveling together, introducing each other to our friends. We memorized each other’s friends’ names. And then, suddenly, I don’t even know who you’re hanging out with. Where you are. What your plans are. Who I am for you. 

You fucked me up real bad. This whole thing fucked me up so much. I hate that. I hate you for that. Why am I in this? I want to know the truth so bad. I want to know who the fuck you are. I want to know. Why are you still there? Come back. Don’t I matter? Don’t I worth it? I hate this feeling: I’m not worthy enough. And it makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t.

Maybe I have to let myself hate you, validate my feelings toward you, so I’ll be able to let you go. You made me feel special and then destroyed me. How is this fair?