What the actual fuck, dude?
Six months later and my brain is still reverberating from the fucking acrobatics you put it through. Do I look like a gymnast to you? Nah, so WHAT THE FLYING FUCK?
Why the fuck did you have to fall apart about how much you weren't the guy I thought you were and how much you were lying about how nice and caring you were? You chose to be nice to me and talk to me as much as you did and invite me to everything. I never once asked, so you did it because you wanted to in whatever fucking way that was. But oh, "I'm not the guy you think I am". Bitch please. Did it ever enter your mind for one second that I was with you because of the asshole, self medicating, self improvement obsessed weirdo you were? Because maybe if you'd actually listened when I talked, you'd know I was just as fucked up as you and it was fucking fantastic to be with someone who got it.
Sincerely,
A hot fucking mess who actually liked you
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