I’m writing this because, well I guess I feel I need to. I don’t often think about you not purposefully anyway. I’ve no real idea what you think of me, you probably see me as the archetypal evil ex as I’ll admit I’ve said and done some stuff I’m not proud off, and to portray me this way would be typical of you as you always were dramatic.

I never knew what you wanted from me, for the first month we were close and you considered me your girl. Yet once you told me you loved me it became difficult to even talk to you. I never loved you back, though I lied because that’s what everyone does in that situation. That was my second mistake, the first even meeting up with you, and the third and arguably most serious was losing my virginity to you. Though technically I lost that to myself prior. That summer was shit for me, it goes that way when the guy who’s supposed to care about you bites your arms, leaving huge bruises. How was I supposed to explain that to my parents?  Though I guess it was easier than having to explain fictitious marks you told my friends I had, such as the apparent bitemark on my thigh, which I assure you, no one has ever bitten, let alone enough to leave a mark. It continued like this for a while, longer than I should have accepted. I tried to talk it out with you but you had changed, you weren’t the sweet boy I thought I knew. Now you were a brassy blonde bi sexual fuck up with a drug and alcohol tendency, traits you encouraged me to develop, thankfully I refused. Not to mention how you begged me for nudes then later tried to use them to blackmail me into taking you back. Because that’s what all women want, a manipulative blackmailer. All your, for want of a better word, shit became too much for me when I asked if we could hang out and you turned up three hours late. You’d done it before but for some reason that day I snapped, my sanity took control and I made probably one of the best decisions I’d had. I dumped you, smile on my face, next to the park near my childhood home. You awkwardly asked for a handshake and if we could still be friends. I said sure but later laughed at that detail with my dad, who although fixed your computer once hated you. A bit of a bitch move but I felt I deserved to. Here’s where I made another mistake, I contacted you again the day after, apologising and wanting you back. I now know I didn’t want you specifically but rather just someone to care about me, selfish I know. Thankfully you refused and went on about some girl who was your “cosplay wife” or some shit. God i hate cosplay, that’s because of you. Anyways you said you were with her and sent me some apparently cute photos of the two of you, honestly they helped my sanity to regard control. Thanks man.

We continued chatting on that stupid app you told me to download, Kik, for a while with you sometimes coming on to me, and in my not so finest hour, I replied attempting to lead you on, trying to prove to myself and you that I could too be manipulative and controlling. This kinda continued on and off until early this year. I apologise for that and promise it won’t EVER happen again.

Now retracing my steps I realised I’ve missed out a considerable chunk of this story. After I broke up with you, and a while into our flirting you, one attempted to convince me you had thrown yourself under a car and through you’re friends phones, that you were in a coma. Horrific I know but it gets worse. I was speaking to a close ex friend of yours, he was a sweet guy and I dated him for a few months. I genuinely liked him but we weren’t a great match. Mostly because of you. He didn’t like me still speaking to you, but I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t vulnerable and could be as much of a bastard as you’d been. That and I don’t like guys who tell me what to do, nobody owns me man.  Anyways I was going on my first date with him the day you showed up outside my house, that’s fucking creepy. I later found out you’d sent me multiple poems and emotional pleas, the final text saying that I needed to meet up with you or you were going to kill yourself. I found these when I checked my phone after the date.

When I noticed you were there I went the other way, I’ve told people I punched you in the face, but that’s mostly for my own benefit. My heart was pounding as you followed me. If you were willing to stalk me, what else were you prepared to do. Thankfully I lost you and called my mum from the bus in tears.

If you ever read this you’ll know that I’ve missed out some details, but fuck dude there was a shit load of drama with you, too much to type into my phone at 00:46. And I’m well aware that you’ll view these accounts differently to me. But I had to write them from my point of view, as I’d like to finally tie up the last few strings regarding that summer, I hope this will finally give me the closure I need.

I don’t mean to offend or upset you with this open letter, I mean only to record my thoughts. I hope you don’t interpret yourself as the bad guy of my account. As in life unlike stories there are no clear heroes and villains. We both made mistakes that I know I’m not proud of, I’m sorry if I hurt you in anyway. I feel I’m a changed person from the naive and insecure child I was back then. That’s particularly down to you. You’re actions taught me how much I will tolerate and also that I deserve happiness as everyone, including yourself does. I’ve found that now and I hope you find it too, and if you have already then that’s genuinely great.

I’d say feel free to contact me, but I have nothing left to say to you, sometimes, particularly with toxic relationships like ours, there’s just too much water under the bridge.

I wish you all the best for the future, and hope you get where you want to be in life, we once spoke about how you had dreams of being a musician. I hope it all works out. But most of all I hope you stay true to yourself, as after all you should always be yourself unless you can be a unicorn.