Ruby,
You’re just the same as when we broke up, and I find that so funny. The guy who you thought you could manipulate left you, and you can’t find anyone to take my place. 

You haven’t asked me to get back with you, and I’m glad. I finally got over you, and I unblocked you. You don’t mean anything to me anymore. Maybe I’ve passed you by on the street before, saw one of your posts on my explore. But you know what? I just don’t care about you anymore– and I honestly don’t think I ever did.

What I never told you, was that I had no label for myself. I was trying things out. Turns out, I never fell in love with you. I loved you dearly, but nowhere near romantically. If I had taken the time to think about my feelings without constantly worrying about yours, maybe I would have finally realized that.

I’m straight, and I find it so funny that you even think about talking to my old friends about me anymore. You say you broke my heart, but now I realize you never had anything to break. I was never in love with you, and you were sure that I was. You took what you could, thinking I would come crawling back– which I did, when you decided to gaslight me into it.

So maybe this is my final letter, my final goodbye. I’m letting go of you and all of your bullshit lies behind, Ruby. You’re a creep, and you’re psychotic. Instead of getting a new girlfriend, please take the time to get a therapist. Most of us aren’t qualified enough to listen to your sob stories– most of which you made up.

You said that your father was abusive, I felt horrible. Then, you said he had died. After that, you told me that he had left when you were a baby. Tell me, how did you get from A to B?

You created things and stories in your head. You feed off of sympathy, and you do anything you can to get that.

This may seem like a letter some crazy ex would write when they’re mad– but its not.

I never loved you, not how you thought I did. I like guys, Ruby. You said I was “the reason that you didn’t date girls”. You hadn’t dated a guy in years. You’re dating a girl now. 

I love someone else. 

I love someone who lets me know they care.

He lets me know that I deserved better than what you gave me.

I don’t wish you well, because I’m not a liar. If you ever need advice on how to be a better person, don’t ask me. Ask the pills that you constantly said you would kill yourself with if I left. They’re supposed to help you feel better, and I would never say this unless I absolutely meant it:

Maybe you should just take those prescription pills and get it over with, because I can’t name one person on this Earth who would go to your funeral– so you can forget what I said about bringing flowers if you died while I was with you.

Don’t be stuck on me, or anyone else you claimed to have loved, because nobody will want you back.
Because we’re all born alone and we’ll all die alone, that’s what you said, right?