I’m in a s***** headspace tonight, and maybe spitting it out on a site I’ve never been to and will probably never visit again will make me feel better. Here goes:

I tell people I know I made a mistake letting you get away, but I don’t tell them all of this.

I cheated on you when we were dating, two years ago. You told me cheating was the one thing you could never forgive and I smiled and agreed with you and then when you left I would go and f*** my neighbor. I swore everyone around you to secrecy, even your sister, and I know none of them told you because you can still look me in the eyes when we talk. I wish I had a better excuse for why I did it. The truth is, I didn’t have to worry with her. I wasn’t going to be her first time. She and I weren’t anything but a casual f***, we both knew it, and it was easy and oh so satisfying.

But you broke up with me, and I realized just what I had done. I broke a promise I made to myself when I was very young, because it was the easy way out. I haven’t tried to find anyone else since, because I’m untrustworthy. I’m scum. I wish I could tell you all this, tell you I know I screwed up, beg forgiveness. At least I would get some kind of closure if you never spoke to me again. But I can’t do that, because the times I see you are the only times I look forward to anymore.

I miss you.
I must have typed and deleted the text asking you to come over tonight fifteen times.
I miss you.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry the only people who will read this are strangers on the internet. I’m sorry I did the things I did, and I’m sorry I covered it up so well.
I wish we had met when I was a better person.

I miss you.