After our first date, I never would have imagined we’d be here.
Six hours talking, staring into your eyes, laughing hard enough to cry, feeling bewildered by the fact that we had so many things in common.
Even now as I stare at old messages I feel lost, disconnected from the girl who received those things.
Some days I miss that girl I used to be with you, confident and free.
I was devasted by your choice to end things, heart broken into a million pieces that I thought would never come back together.
I missed you. A lot.
But let me just say this, You don’t get to miss me.
That is not how this works.
I didn’t ask for this breakup.
I was willing to give it another fight. I was sitting there, waiting on you, my heart in my hand for you.
I sacrificed myself and my own emotional well-being to try and give you what you needed.
I was there to support you, and you denied it at every turn. I always texted and called to check in on you. Communication that always went unanswered.
We both hurt so much through this, but you don’t get to anymore.
I gave us so many chances. Willing to sacrifice yet another part of myself for you; the man who never deserved me in the first place and all the love I had to give.
I used to lose so much sleep talking to you at night.
Now, I lose sleep regretting having talked to you at all.
You don’t get to miss me.
You don’t get to call, text, write emails or show up on my doorstep anymore.
You don’t get to ask what I’m doing. You don’t get to be curious. You don’t get to follow me around.
And you don’t get to ask if I’m dating someone.
You lost all rights to me the minute you left.
Just stop. You’re dragging me down; pulling at me, giving me whiplash, making me always feel like a sinking ship.
I get it. You miss me.
But you are utterly exhausting. How many times do we have to say goodbye to one another? 25? 100?
Are you showing up just to make sure I stay single? Are you afraid I’ll move on and actually be happy?
You miss me? Well I don’t blame you!
I loved you and a part of me always will.
But loving you means not loving myself.
And I really really love myself.
You were right. I’m not right for you.
I’m meant for someone else. So why don’t you let that someone else step in.
You don’t get to miss me. You don’t have that right. You’re not allowed to be sad and upset anymore.
You don’t get to rip the rug out from under me, then complain about the floor being bare.
Love isn’t like this.
Love isn’t painful.
Love doesn’t keep you awake at night. It doesn’t fill your eyes with tears at every turn. Love doesn’t make you want to alter yourself.
Love doesn’t make you question the very core of who you are.
I can’t miss you because I’m no longer the girl I was when I was with you. I don’t know her anymore. And neither do you.
You left me, so you don’t get to miss me.