Why were you so happy when I told you I wanted to break up?
My heart was breaking. I had tried so hard to make our relationship work. I did everything I could. And then as soon as I had given up you turn around and tell me how happy you are, how much of a relief this is, how great things are for you, especially now. Things weren’t great for me. Things still aren’t great for me. But you? You were happy.
Why did you forget my birthday, and then think it was okay to forget my birthday?
I hate my birthday, but that certainly didn’t help. Did I mean that little to you that you just forgot my birthday was coming up? You told me the day before that you’d forgotten. I secretly hoped you’d sent me something anyway. You didn’t. And I hate myself for that hope; it made the disappointment that much greater.
Why didn’t you tell me things weren’t working out?
We both knew it wasn’t working. But it was me who was left picking up all the pieces. For two months I was the one putting in the effort, trying to make things work. I didn’t want to give up on us. You gave up though. As soon as things got tough you gave up. As if the last four years meant nothing to you. As if I meant nothing to you. You just gave up and let me go on trying.
Why did you just leave and never turn back?
You never talk to me any more. Our break up was pretty mutual, even if it was heartbreaking, for me. We were best friends for so long. I told you everything. We had our own language to speak to each other, our own memories, our own jokes. That stuff doesn’t just go away. Even after a year it hasn’t gone away. But you don’t care. You don’t even talk to me anymore. You won’t even talk to me anymore. Once again I am left making all the effort. And once again I am done.
Why don’t you care?
I cared. I always cared. And I still care. You don’t care.
I guess I’ll never know.