Day 1 - 6

I don’t know how to do this. I want to stop the bleeding before it gets worse. The only way I know how to do that is to keep to the no contact setup. To not look. To keep myself busy, and do everything but think of you. 

When I catch myself questioning my decision, or feeling sad, I read a list of all the shitty things you’ve said, and done to me. I listen to the two voicemails I have from you. Unfortunately both are shitty. But it’s an excellent reminder of how vile you can be. 

It sucks to know the only things I have that are kind/romantic/sweet or full of praise are the cards, letters, and flower notes. It would have been nice to have a kind and sweet message to listen to. 

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t living a principled life. I’d post your shitty voicemail online so everyone could hear how fucking rude you are. 

I’ve noticed that when I forget about you, I stop picking at my nails. My cuticles look like shit, especially right after I read your messages. 

I have my moments of weakness. I’ve looked at your fet. I’ve looked at your IG. What the fuck is running through your head? Let’s post a sad caption but post picture of your ass. Attention seeking sadness. It’s so confusing. 

I know that I left the journal open but I’m starting to wonder if it was a bad idea. I see your notes. I find it interesting that you’re making posts about missing me and thinking of me while she is there with you. 

I’m so grateful that I booked my trip to see Becky, and it just so happened to be while she was visiting. What a blessing this has been. Every time I think of you, I have support. I have reassurance. I have reminders to be strong in my decision. To remember what I want in a relationship and that I DESERVE to be respected and loved wholeheartedly. 

I messaged our therapist and she was kind in her response. I’m confused. I don’t understand what to do. I want to reply, but I also don’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing I look at the journal, or that I want to reply. It’s not like my reply would even matter. 

I do find it wildly entertaining that you’re messaging when she is there. 

I can’t get over how fucking rude and disrespectful, and heartless you are. Your posts, your comments, your tags, the flirting. The audacity of taking her to a fucking event. I hope you know that you look like shit. You look like you’re in a frenzy. You look classless. You are the person I’m your writing. You are the predator. You are the one that is a chameleon, who fakes and pretends to fit in. The people that are flocking to you, are the ones that don’t vet. 

Be careful. Regardless of how I feel about you, I still want good things for you. But be careful .