I held his hand tight, and I was never letting go… at least that’s what I told myself when it all began. Because I ride or die. And if I love you, if I care about you I’m always going to be by your side. But somehow I’m the one that’s always being left.

Of course when we started there was nothing platonic about it. It was an instantaneous intense connection. One neither one of us could deny. A pull if you will, a hold we had over one another. And we danced that little dance of ours for years.

Consistant communication until you tired yourself of me. Blocking and unblocking. Loving me and not loving me. Wanting me but inevitably always leaving. Driving hours to spend 30 minutes with you to waking up bright an early to spend time with you in the back seat of my car creating a life that unfortunately didn’t stay too long with me. You left after my birthday in October. And were already in a new relationship in November. But that was so like you to never take a beat.

I was always expected to take it. To embrace it. To understand. I was never allowed to mope, to be upset, or to process my grief in any way but be told I was pathetic. Okay. Or to be told that I was a mother, and to essentially get over it. And after I lost our baby I closed myself, my heart off to you.

How could you care at all about me if all you did was make up excuses. Literally all of them different … either it was because I left you first many years ago and maybe if I didn’t we would have been together the whole time neither one of us touched by the pains other people brought to us.

But I didn’t leave you because I didn’t love you. I left because I felt unseen and undesired. Because you never spoke up about how I mattered or chose to fight for me to stay.

Or how about my favorite one… that I had kids and you wanted to start fresh as if you didn’t already know I had them before you even spoke to me again, telling me how being such a good mom made me sexier…yeah okay. Punishing me for these little lives that you didn’t even know, these little lives I would blow up the world for. I am a mother. But I am also human. A person with wishes, wants, desires, needs, and feelings. Being a mother is not my entire identity. It is just a part of me.

Or your other excuse that you didn’t think I would leave where is was to go where you were. As if I haven’t ever proven I didn’t care about distance and leaving this place. I knew you hated where I was and you never wanted to be back in this place. So why are you here now? Why did this place never present itself as an option for you when you ‘loved’ me but now it’s a good enough place to live again? It’s like a slap to the face when you really sit and think about it.

My presence in your life is a problem and I hinder your peace of mind. Yet, I inevitably always leave you in peace. Everytime you go. I let you be after the initial hurt that I’m entitled to, I leave you alone. But you always reach back out to me.

With your, “I’ll always love you.” “I just miss having a great friend to talk to.” “We talked about being poly but I would only want to do it with you because no-ones ever loved me like you two.” Or my favorite. “I would 100 percent do that for you.” When you heard I wanted to have a baby alone because I wanted one more child without the headache of a man, because I’m fully capable of being a mother all by myself. And I didn’t even ask you, you just offered it to me. Like dangling candy in front of child. Just to snatch it all away. Cruel.

The funny thing is this time around, I was just being myself. Helpful. Trying to make sure you were good. Trying to be a friend. Because I cared about you as a person, as a human being. I have compassion. And you were in a hard place. I’m like that with everyone because I am a good person.

There were no blurred lines this time around. No false promises. No burning in my chest for you because I wanted you so badly. Just common decency. I can care about you without wanting you romantically. I can care about you without it being weird. I can care about you without ever opening myself up to you in the ways I have in the past.

Do you know why? Because I would be a damn fool to ever open myself up to you in those ways ever again. And I’m not stupid. “You can always count on people to be exactly who they’ve always shown you they were.” Exactly. Because look at you. And look how you always treated me. Like I was disposable, until you missed me. Or until you needed something from me. Always playing with my kindness and for what?

I loved you. You let me go. Now you can live with that. Stop looking for me everywhere you will never find me. You let me go. And didn’t care where I landed many times before. And always came back and let me fall flat on my face again and again. This time, there wasn’t unbearable longing feelings. But there were more empty apologies. Empty because things never change. It’s always the same.

Now all I feel is rage. And distaste. Because how dare you. Mark my words. I won’t be here when you’re looking for me again. I won’t be here. So this better be what you really wanted. Never again.