So between 4 years of deep friendship. 3 years of dating, and one year of being engaged. . . Then a year-and-a-half of almost radio silence, we reconnected and you were so excited, and I was so excited, so excited to be reunited with you after crying myself to sleep every single night for a year-and-a-half. After heavily using alcohol and substances to numb the harshness of my tears against my pillow, in the bed that was once ours. You went on tour and brought a stripper back from New Orleans. Moved her trash ass in and stop speaking to me after you told me that our reconnection was so important, and so impactful, and how afraid you were of losing me. I was nothing while she was with you. You knew nothing about her except that she was hot and that she would f*** your ugly ass. Meanwhile I got to cry some more. Then she left you again. In the time between you leaving me like garbage in a can and her leaving you like just the same, I plottef out exactly what I would say to you if you ever reached out again, but when you called me crying at 1 a.m. I couldn’t help myself, I stayed on the phone with you for more than 2 hours while you solved about her leaving you and what a mess your life felt like. Then we resumed our intimacy, and we have been off and on intimate, but I bought a house and I got a better job, my daughter that you had claimed to love, who is not yours but you said felt like your own, has started school and is going into the second grade, all of that happened without your presence. And now even though the mattress is still the same mattress as it ever was between us, and under us, it’s mine now and has been mine longer than it was ever yours alone, and longer than it was ours together, combined. Maybe it’s all for the best, but still I can’t wait to see you again and hold you the way that we always do and hear you say things that hurt and hear you say things that heal and hear you say things that give me hope. Maybe we actually are each other’s Perfect People or maybe this is just another blip in time something to ease us into a life without us, or at least ease me into a life without you, because I’ll probably never figure out how much you ever felt for me or do. Can’t wait to suck your dick again, hope you come help me hook up my new kitchen appliances, and I hope you read this and know I wrote it about you, even though I am almost 100% sure that you don’t read s*** like this on websites like this.