Why can’t I at least be angry at you?

Why can’t I at least be angry at you?

Why can’t I at least be angry at you?

Dear Josephine,

I know you don’t love me anymore but it still hurts. They say that ends are beginnings in disguise but I haven’t decided whether or not I want to be reborn and live again. When I try to remember our good times together, I hear your voice say “I don’t love you anymore” over and over again over the phone. I remember the last time I saw you in person, how cold your eyes were, how fruitlessly I searched for a glimmer of recognition inside of them. I remember how your lips felt like stone against mine. It still feels like this entire thing is a bad dream, and I can wake up at any moment to call you and tell you all about it.

I miss my best friend.The empty space you’ve left behind is impossible to fill. A day before you left me you made so many promises – you said you wanted to get married, to travel Europe with me, and that you loved me. You made me promise to always try and make this relationship work. Why would you string me along like that? I wasn’t the most mature girlfriend but I would have never lied about loving you. I would have never given you false hope like that. I packed up all the things that reminded me of our life together and put them in a bag. I looked at the pictures of us and tried to spot the moment you decided I was worthless. I can never find it.

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