Dear you
I guess its your turn, I guess this is your open letter. Is it wrong to miss the monsters? The hardest part about moving on is forgetting. Forgetting what it felt like to touch. Forgetting what your voice sounded like in the morning. Forgetting what it felt like to feel your lips on my forehead when I fell asleep. I'm forgetting. I have spent so much time filling the void you left, that I grew numb. I found myself going longer without you popping into my head. I went longer without the dull ache in my heart. But I started forgetting. Forgetting you. I think what surprises me the most is the memories that do come back once in awhile. Its not the big stuff. Its the little moments we shared. The comfortable silence on our drives to Tofino, and Oregon. It was the late night munchies, laughing until our tummies hurt. Its the stolen kisses, and the little fights that turned into the best nights. It's the ass grabbing, JJ bean adventures. I remember the small stuff. So tell me is it wrong to miss the monsters? Because my monster happens to be you, and for a very long time you were my saviour. So tell me , how do I not miss this monster. I say monster because now I see what you are. I can still remember five years ago sitting in your truck, looking at you, listening to you tell me that you didn't want me to wake up five years down the road and realize I had missed out on it all. On growing up. Isn't it funny how instead of me, it was you. Instead of me, you cheated on me. With her. With HER of all people. With her, the one person I thought I would never have to worry about. With HER. The girl who you literally asked me and I quote ' what the fuck is wrong with her face'. Oh little monster, little man, you fooled me didn't you. I started this letter off crying by the way, funny how it only took for our song to end for me to get over it. Oh how the times have changed. I promised myself along time ago that I would not cry over you. Instead, I will let myself remember some good stuff, and then I will force myself to remember the bad stuff. I will force myself to remember you sleeping with her. I will force myself to remember watching her pick you up from MY FUCKING HOUSE. I will remember every time you looked at me point blank in the fucking face and lied to me like I was nothing. Oh you fucking make me sick. I wanted this to be a detailed, well written letter but clearly I am still bitter. Clearly I am not ready to write a normal well edited letter. So instead, I will leave this letter at that and leave it off with a big FUCK YOU.
I guess its your turn, I guess this is your open letter. Is it wrong to miss the monsters? The hardest part about moving on is forgetting. Forgetting what it felt like to touch. Forgetting what your voice sounded like in the morning. Forgetting what it felt like to feel your lips on my forehead when I fell asleep. I'm forgetting. I have spent so much time filling the void you left, that I grew numb. I found myself going longer without you popping into my head. I went longer without the dull ache in my heart. But I started forgetting. Forgetting you. I think what surprises me the most is the memories that do come back once in awhile. Its not the big stuff. Its the little moments we shared. The comfortable silence on our drives to Tofino, and Oregon. It was the late night munchies, laughing until our tummies hurt. Its the stolen kisses, and the little fights that turned into the best nights. It's the ass grabbing, JJ bean adventures. I remember the small stuff. So tell me is it wrong to miss the monsters? Because my monster happens to be you, and for a very long time you were my saviour. So tell me , how do I not miss this monster. I say monster because now I see what you are. I can still remember five years ago sitting in your truck, looking at you, listening to you tell me that you didn't want me to wake up five years down the road and realize I had missed out on it all. On growing up. Isn't it funny how instead of me, it was you. Instead of me, you cheated on me. With her. With HER of all people. With her, the one person I thought I would never have to worry about. With HER. The girl who you literally asked me and I quote ' what the fuck is wrong with her face'. Oh little monster, little man, you fooled me didn't you. I started this letter off crying by the way, funny how it only took for our song to end for me to get over it. Oh how the times have changed. I promised myself along time ago that I would not cry over you. Instead, I will let myself remember some good stuff, and then I will force myself to remember the bad stuff. I will force myself to remember you sleeping with her. I will force myself to remember watching her pick you up from MY FUCKING HOUSE. I will remember every time you looked at me point blank in the fucking face and lied to me like I was nothing. Oh you fucking make me sick. I wanted this to be a detailed, well written letter but clearly I am still bitter. Clearly I am not ready to write a normal well edited letter. So instead, I will leave this letter at that and leave it off with a big FUCK YOU.
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