Dear Devin

I DON’T GIVE a fuck if you see this or not! In fact I hope you do. You’re a sorry, stupid son-of-a-bitch if there ever was one and you don’t even know because you couldn’t get a clue if they were handing them out on the fucking street! If I had a goddamned penny for every time you’ve fucked me over I’d have more money than your new girlfriend has POUNDS SHE COULD AFFORD TO LOSE. Cheer up though! Maybe like me you’ll make the poor thing so fucking depressed she won’t be able to eat and she’ll drop some of that weight off. That’s the only thing you’re good for! Fuck every diet I ever had, I owe losing thirty pounds allllll to you, buddy. I can’t believe you made me open my heart to you, love you, and want you more than anyone I ever had before in my life and then fuck me over. You broke every promise you ever made. You’re a disgusting human being. You are the DEFINITION of fuckboy! I’d go write about you under Fuckboy in Urban Dictionary if they would let people post defintions with references to people we know and unfortunately I still know you. You make me almost SAD because the sort of person you are is the exact sort you said you never wanted to be. “I was raised to respect women” MY DYING ASS! You were raised to fuck women and then abandon them. Before you I was naïve and believed in true love, that it conquered all, that as long as two people cared it would work. WHAT. A JOKE. What I felt for you? Yeah. That shit was true love. You were fucking LUCKY, you stupid, stupid bastard. I treated you wonderfully. I was caring and sweet and devoted, I showered you with affection and gave you everything I had and way beyond what I had because I adored you and for a while I was getting it in return. We were so close.

And then BAM! Now we hate each other. You treat me and everyone (yes even yourself) like absolute shit. You get high and accept nudes and date stupid whores and you ARE a stupid whore. Whoever your girlfriend is, FUCK HER. If there’s anything I hate it’s a stupid person, and anybody who would want you is fucking gullible–yeah. Including yours truely. The only thing I hate more than a stupid person is a coward. And that would be YOU. You’re a cowardly asshole. You couldn’t face my love because it was too real. You couldn’t handle me because, unlike everyone in your life until I came on the scene including your own fucked up family, I loved you the way people are supposed to fucking love each other. Even after you left me I couldn’t cut off how I felt about you and I sure as shit suffered for it. But you didn’t. For all your talk of being too fucking depressed to date, for all your talk of your feelings for me being forever and missing me unbearably and Without You I’d Be Miserable At Best, and all that bullshit, two weeks COUNT ‘EM TWO WEEKS LATER you had already jumped to the next bitch. And only two weeks after that you had a new one. One girl lined up right after the next. Which is super surprising, because BEFORE I GOT THERE NOBODY WANTED YOU, MR. I GOT MY FIRST KISS AT FUCKING FIFTEEN. (FROM, guess who? Oh yeah! ME! Everyone else could get kissed by age 13 at least but YOU couldn’t! PS. I FIRST KISSED YOU ALMOST OUT OF PITY!) Oh, what’s that? I think it’s the Merriam Webster Dictionary people calling my house, THEY WANT ONE OF YOUR STUPID NERDY-ASS SELFIES TO PUBLISH BESIDE THEIR DEFINITION OF LYING LOSER FUCKBOYS!!

I hope your seven and a half inch dick falls off! Then you might have to follow your brain through life instead of your fucking penis and that twisted, empty bloody bag of vacuous flesh in your chest you call your heart. If I still had the ability to feel then I’d ask you, why didn’t I mean enough to you, was it all a lie? But I hate you way too much and my heart knows when it’s had enough. I frankly don’t have the emotional energy to ponder it further. It’s pathetic, and an utter waste of time besides. It changes nothing. My emotions are still raped and you’re still a JERKOFF. Speaking of which, even though you’ve got another bitch and probably more bitches behind her I bet you still get off to ME. I’m way fucking hotter than all of them and I’m still the only one who can make you feel for once in your goddamned life, you broke-ass damaged little bitch. I’d hope you go to hell but even Satan himself wouldn’t last a day without wanting to shove a big baseball bat down your throat which I would have tried but your fucked-up teeth would probably keep it from fitting in.

You can keep your trashy whores; I think all of them are in for some real shit. You’ll never mean anything but misery for any woman. Why? BECAUSE YOU’RE A LYING FUCKED UP SON-OF-A-BITCH WHO CAN’T MANTAIN A RELATIONSHIP EVEN IF IT IS WITH SOMEONE YOU CLAIM TO DEEPLY CARE ABOUT. It ain’t just me baby, OHHHH no. Your cold little heart is gonna chew up and spit out EVERY SINGLE GIRL you’re with who loves you, assuming you still have the irresistable sweet-nerd-guy charm that made me love you–which, you’re seeing as how you’re such a fucking fuckboy you probably do. You, Devin, are POISON. FUCKING. SECOND-HAND SMOKE, TOXIC CHEMICAL, HEART DISEASE NO SHIT POISON. God help the girl who truely loves you. She’s absolutely screwed. The only thing more toxic than loving you is BEING you. But you LIKE it that way. So I have no sympathy for your stupid ass. Almost none. I WISH I could fill this letter with prattle like “I hope you find love” and “I wish you well”, but HELL NO I don’t FUCKING WISH YOU WELL AND THE KIND OF JACKASS YOU ARE DOESN’T DESERVE LOVE. Old Devin? Yeah. That guy deserves love. But you? Tch! Go kill yourself you dumb bastard. You rejected me, hurt me, pushed me away. I HAVE TO GO TO THERAPY BECAUSE OF YOU. I am fucking DAMAGED. Hell no I don’t wish you well. I wish you would jump DOWN a well. I wish I could poison you and then you would know how it feels to be poinsoned. You go out of your way to, every time we talk, ” ACCIDENTALLY” send me a picture of whatever girl is begging to suck you off at the time and mention that you’ve got her. You try to make me suffer. Why? Could it be you want me to be jealous? No. Any desire for me has nothing to do with it. You don’t love your ‘fans’ but you love having them. And it really BUGS you, doesn’t it, deep down inside, to see me give no fucks about you. You try to cause me pain because you’re an INSECURE FREAK. You want the attention from whoever will give it to you but baby THAT AIN’T ME. Not anymore. You don’t want MY love, you don’t even want LOVE (You claim to, but you don’t! My loving you is what made you STOP loving me) you just want attention. You sick fuck. I feel sorry for you, I really do. But you also make me fucking sick to my stomach. The person I really feel sorry for here is ME. It’s been months and I’m still fucking wreaked. I’ll never tell you, though–you don’t deserve to have the satisfaction. Go ahead, think about her. But she’ll never be as good as me. I’m the fucking panerphanalias. She’s just another bitch. I hope you kill yourself you hateful horrible cad. I hate you I hate you I hate you! If I could tear you to peices using only my teeth I would do it and enjoy every fucking second. I can’t believe I gave my heart to a fucking Billy goat. You billy-goat looking bitch. I can’t believe I had dry sex with you! I can’t believe I let you feel me up! I CANT BELIEVE I WOULD HAVE FUCKED YOU IF I HADN’T BEEN SO COMMITED. I can’t believe my life is such a fucking horrible mess and my most adored person turned out to be a disgusting traitor who doesn’t even care I’m alive when he used to adore me back.

I can’t believe my heart of hearts was completely wrong about something that was so deeply right to me that it filled my entire soul. I can’t hardly trust myself now. And as for trusting anyone else, well you can forget it. I’m through with this, all of it. I wish I could run away, away from you and all my stupid clingy memories and my stupid clingy remource. I’d never speak to anyone again and I’d be just fine with it. I’ve tried everything to make myself feel better and none of it has worked. God I hate you and I hate that I hate you. I hate that this is what we are. I hate this person you are, I hate that he doesn’t love me, and I hate that I can’t fucking do anything for myself. I don’t recognize me. You’ve turned my whole world upside down and not in a good way. Obviously.

Give me some peace and die a quick, painful death. And take me with you.

All my hatred and bitterness,

Maddy