“Me and my girlfriend are fucking him, too!” she said with an ecstasy hazed look.

At first, I shuddered at her grammatical faux-pas. I mean, that’s just bad. 

 

It’s funny, though, in a tragically hysterical manner- a year ago, I was in this little girls place. Working for a piece of shit scumbag, getting paid with sex and emotionless “I love you’s” to do what he deemed a “trustworthy task”.

 

I stood up and left. I went over to the tables, began to shake and cry, and called my friends who were almost there. 

 

At some point, I remember screaming out through my tears “She’s not even fucking pretty!”

 

“Keep me calm… I feel the anxiety coming. Please hurry.”

 

You consoled me when you got there, told me we were gonna just have a fun time and dance our cares away. 

 

What you don’t know, friends, is I pretended to be happy that whole night. I didn’t really want to be there, as I wholeheartedly hate the dumb bastard who instigated this event.

 

How can you forgive someone after they lied to you for almost a year just to get in your pants, to only leave you when you refused to forgive them for fucking a fifteen year old? You’re 37 now, you creepy fuck. Grow up and stop giving drugs to loose sluts who’ll just screw you to get a cheap (or free) high, only costing whatever chunk of their soul you feel like stealing. 

 

I remember the first place I met you. High school graduation party, where you were hired to entertain us? 

 

When you asked about my age, you faked surprise. You prey on the type of girl I was. A young, curvy little thing that trusted the world and loved music. You took advantage of me. 

 

Did you care? Lord, no. You’ve been doing this for years. Your friends tell me A LOT about who you were, but you’re still this person. You’re this unfortunate person who’s stuck in early adulthood, preying on girls with daddy issues, just to give pseudo-love for a blow job. 

 

I must give you credit, though. You brought me out of my shell. I thank you for that.

 

 

I will never forgive you for the following: 

Cheating on me with a fifteen year old slut. 

Lying about your age.

Lying about your criminal history. 

Lying to me about what happened in California. 

Using my emotions to get sex.

Getting me pregnant, then telling me “It’s better this way” when I miscarried. 

Lying about how you “never date girls younger than like, 25”. 

Making me choose between my career and education and you. 

Using me for my money.

Using me for my body. 

Telling me you loved me. Realize you only did that during sex.

Nonchalantly telling me I’m fat by making me “workout mixes”. 

Not accepting me for who I am. 

Telling me that I’m a hypochondriac, and that depression isn’t real.

Not trying to fix your fuck up, just giving up. 

 

 

 

 

 

I just wish I could go somewhere in this goddamn city without being reminded of the time you stole from me, time that I will never get back.