You should be so lucky that I’m not inclined toward drama. Every night before you manage to fall asleep, despite the horrific shit you put me through for two years, you should be on your knees thanking God that I saved all these musings for some anonymous online site instead of uttering them directly to your smug face, because dammit I wish I did.
You’re an abusive, narcissistic, lying, smarmy, manipulative, perverted shower-dwelling social pariah masquerading as the world’s least-charismatic wannabe politician whose conversational skills are on par with literal NPCs. No, seriously, I’ve seen NPCs with greater range in terms of the tired, unoriginal lines they spew at least 600 times per day. You’d be the easiest person on the planet to mimic. I’d liken your personality to a wet paper towel, but at least a wet paper towel is still useful now and again. And at least a wet paper towel doesn’t view women as nothing more than mere means to an end, but please, call yet another woman in your life “unstable” the second she emotes whatsoever, knowing full well that if she was a man you wouldn’t use that term!
That weirdass unkempt patch of hair you insist on keeping on your chin looks like shit, and it does absolute fuckall to conceal the onslaught of acne that regularly comes on your face harder than any woman ever will. They say empathetic people are best in bed, and you are a shining example of what the low end of that spectrum looks like. You don’t listen to women, and it shows. I should be a fucking Oscar nominee the way I faked it so many times just to get you off of me without pissing you off.
Despite how “honest” you constantly self-profess to be, always finding a way to ram the statement down everyone’s throats at every turn no matter the actual subject of conversation, you wouldn’t actually know honesty if it strolled up to you with a brightly-colored nametag, introduced itself, and then took out another one of your teeth with a fucking neon sledgehammer. I mean, Jesus, your parents are literal dentists and yet you still managed to lose a wholeass tooth to neglect, did you seriously expect not to lose a woman the same way? Never mind the constant lying about major things, you’re such a pathological liar that you even feel the need to just make shit up on the fly for no real reason at all.
Remember the time you told me that bogus story about joining Mensa when you were a kid? What the hell kind of purpose did that lie serve? Everyone with multiple braincells can tell that yours wouldn’t even land you an IQ above room temperature. I can’t tell which of your lies is my all-time “favorite” – I’d say it’s a three-way tie between the time you lied about me calling my best friend a “bitch,” the time you gaslit me into believing I did a bunch of shit I never actually did whilst blackout drunk, or all the times you said “I love you” (the lie, of course, being that you are capable of love at all).
No one fucking likes you, and you have no one to blame for that but yourself, try as you might to guilt-trip me by whining about how I’m “making you out to be a monster.” Even people you consider “close friends” don’t even like you – they keep you at arms’ length and at best refer to you as an acquaintance. They constantly talk shit about you, and I for one am glad to no longer have to always defend your stupid ass. All those “slick” lies you fed me in the weeks leading up to our breakup? Yeah, your own “friends” came to me and snitched. We are all in agreement now that you are a disgusting, misogynistic piece of shit.
They hated living with you in that frat annex, never feeling okay using the ground-floor bathroom unless they wanted to wade in a revolting concoction of shower water mixed with your money shot every time you constantly went in there to loudly jerk off. They all wanted to rip your fucking head off every time you made those obnoxious animal noises at 5am purely because you found it entertaining to wake up the house on school nights. They dreaded what life for them was going to be like after we broke up, since I was the person who would teach you basic empathy and constantly talk you out of stupid shit to do to your housemates. Maybe that’s why your own “boys” like me better than you. I had to comfort and give survival tips to the poor guy who has to live on the same floor as you next year – you know, the same one you confided in about how women are just c̶l̶o̶u̶t̶-̶c̶h̶a̶s̶i̶n̶g̶ networking opportunities for you?
Every relationship in your life is shallow and superficial as fuck, and that’s because you have a severe deficiency in empathy. Is it any wonder you can’t seem to have a “connection” with anyone? You’ll never know what genuine love is like. You’ll never know what it’s like to have a genuine, happy, and fulfilling relationship with someone, because such a thing requires both parties to have actual souls, and any relationship involving you can never meet that criteria.
I’d say I wish you nothing but the worst, but hell, I know I don’t really have to – someone like you is bound to bring that upon himself anyway. Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t laugh when my friends went out of their way to report your car every single time they saw it illegally parked somewhere on campus, knowing you habitually park like a male Karen so frequently that it landed you court-ordered Driver’s Ed courses last year. And in typical character, you still never learned from your mistakes, so you went right back on your merry way parking like a douchebag the moment those classes ended. Hope you can handle round two! (Assuming they even give you that option a second time instead of just putting all this shit on your criminal record and letting it potentially tarnish your chances at grad school. Oh no!)
Go fuck yourself and leave me alone for good. We are not friends, we are not on good terms or even speaking terms, so stop trying to act like we are. We both know you’re just doing this so your own friends don’t alienate you, because even “your” people are on my side and you damn well know it.
You made your bed, now lie in it.