I am writing this letter to let you know how much I hate you and how much I hate myself. I hate myself for allowing you in my life again. I went against my better judgment and decided to give you a chance again almost three years ago. To this day, I regret it. I probably always will regret it. I hate myself for allowing you to fuck with my feelings, my sanity, my life. I was strong before we got back together and you took that away from me. You took away any happiness I ever known. I will never forgive you; not that you deserve it anyway, I hate myself that I can’t go a day thinking about you and the good times and how you had to fuck it up. I hate myself for thinking ever thinking you’d change your mind. I hate myself for thinking you were the one. I hate myself for not being able to open up to anyone because of how bad YOU fucked me up. I used to call you my Mr. Big, but the truth is, you are nowhere near the man he is. He may be just a character on a tv series, but that character will have more depth to him than you ever will. You have no idea on how to love someone. You have no feelings. You only care about yourself, and not to the destruction you leave behind. I hate myself for not being able to sleep at night because I can’t stop crying over you. I hate myself for thinking everyone is going to hurt me like you did. Finally, I hate myself for ever loving you.
I hate you for doing all of these things to me. I hate you for thinking you could come into my life and thinking you could fuck it up with out any repercussions. I hate you for leading me on. I hate you for continually trying to contact me for your own enjoyment. I hate you for making me believe love again. I hate you for making me feel like I will literally die of heartbreak. Finally, I hate you for making me feel like I had nothing to live for.
As you can see, I clearly hate myself more than I hate you and that isn’t okay. YOU did this to me. You made me feel worthless and I am sick of blaming and hating myself for it. You’re the fucked up individual.
I use to wish that you would one day feel this pain I am feeling. I don’t wish that anymore. The reason is because I know you can’t handle it. You’re a fucking weak ass bitch. A pussy, if you will. You don’t know how to deal with things without lashing out like a psychotic person.
I don’t wish this on you anymore. Wishing it won’t make me feel better and it actually happening won’t make me feel better. I need to be a better person and just wish you the best, as much as that makes me sick to say.
I wish you happiness because maybe then one day you won’t leave chaos and destruction everywhere you go. You won’t destroy everything you touch. I hope that one day you find someone who would’ve given you everything like I would’ve. Most of all, I hope that you think of me everyday. I hope that you realize how much you fucked up. I hope that you never think of contacting me again because you know it would only hurt me more. I hope that you one day realize how wonderful of a woman, human being, lover, friend, confidant, and badass that I really am.
I hope that one day we can both look back on the times we had and smile. I know that won’t be soon for me, but I hope it happens in the future because I refuse to let you fuck up the rest of my life. I will forever regret it, but I know I can move on from it one day.
I have hope. Hope for life. Hope for love. Hope for knowing that I will be happy again one day, and I will NOT let YOU ever take that away from me again.
I truly wish you all the best.