Why can’t you ever admit that you aren’t always right? Why can’t you make it right?

I scheduled this post so you could see I wasn’t being dishonest. I thought you would ask for proof but I know you probably didn’t care so here it is anyway. I wish you’d see how much I care. I love you. I wish it had been different.

Always one of the worst days of the year.

I am so in love with you.

You let her get in your head.

My least favorite person ever must be your best friend. A compulsive liar who only wants to cause me pain. You seem no different any more. Until a few days ago I thought maybe there was still something there, but now I see that you seem to want what she does. I’d been collecting Christmas presents for you, remaining hopeful that time would heal, and that you’d see that you’ve been buying into made up stories from a person who only wants to hurt me. You’ve harassed me and completely lost any sense of respect, maturity, or composure. I’ll always love you and you know that, but you’ve let yourself turn into someone I never thought you’d become. I miss the old you.