The Writing’s on the Wall

Dear American Boy…

Scrap the “Dear” because you’re not. And I’ve called you “Boy” because you need to grow up. I still think of you. But I think different things about you now. The kind words, your smiles, your laughter, the electric vibe when you touched my leg softly. I no longer think of those things. I think of lies and hidden agendas, of un-botheredness, of you unable or unwilling to keep your word. I think of broken promises and hurt, shock, confusion, and now a mounting indifference.

You rocked my world. Now you rock it in a different way. I’m nobody’s fool. But you treat me that way. Do you not realize I know you never kept your promise to me, not to see others. Or at least be grown up enough to tell me about it. Do you not know that I know you see other girls. Do you not know that you run like clockwork.. available and online until 6-7pm at night, then not back again until 1-2 in the morning. Patterns. I see the patterns in your actions. They were the patterns you had with me. We’d be out from 7pm and after you’d come back to mine and been in my bed, you’d be back home about 1-2pm. You’re still creating those patterns. Just not with me. I see it. I recognize it. And you don’t know that I know.

I know I mean nothing to you. And here’s the bit that pisses me off. YOU were the one who wanted to keep in touch when I left the country. YOU were the one that said you wanted to keep in touch. YOU were the one who wanted me to come back and see you. YOU. The one who said today that it was “up to me” if we facetimed this week.

YOU are the one who doesn’t want it being complicated. Yet YOU were the one who called me beautiful. YOU called me amazing. YOU wanted me to have a break in Canada with you. YOU were the one who said they missed me. YOU made it complicated. YOU held my hand in public. YOU pulled me close on the train. YOU took me somewhere your friends would be. YOU cared. I did none of that, it was all YOU. Yet YOU don’t want it being complicated. YOU made it that way and its ME that has to uncomplicated things.

“Sex complicates things” you said. Yet you still want sex with others. Sex is sex. I feel no emotional ties to it. Its fun. And you were fun. Until you overthought it all.

I was there for YOU. When your brother was ill. When you broke down and cried. When you needed comfort. When you needed sex. When you needed to be out and not at home. I listened. I understood. I cared. I was there for YOU. Where were you? Where were you when my world turned to shit? Where were you when I needed to hear your voice? Where were you when I needed someone to make me laugh? YOU have never been there for me. Its all words. YOUR words and actions do not match.

I’m coming to see you next week. But I don’t know if I want to see you. Its been six weeks. I’ve changed. YOUR behavior has seen to that. YOUR words are hollow. And shallow. YOU think I’ll always be around. YOU think I don’t know. YOU think you can get away with it. YOU don’t know how much I know. And I don’t know if I will tell you. I don’t know if you even deserve that much.

So, fuck you.

Miss X.

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