To the Boy Who Has my Heart

Subject: To the Boy Who Has my Heart
From: Your Ex
Date: 3 Aug 2016

To the Boy Who Has my Heart,

I hate you.
I hate you because it has been 9 months since you left me.
303 days to be exact.
I remember that day so well, it was both of my sister's birthday, they're not twins, 7 years apart exactly but that's off topic. I remember going into my room because you asked to call, you always made me smile no matter what, I could not wait to talk to you. That's when you told me,"Hey, I don't think this is working out, I don't think this is right". I mean, how could it be right? I was finally happy, but that's not how life works. It's been a constant hell since that day. You know that of course. The last time we spoke was 217 days ago, or 7 months ago, I know you remember that. I had alcohol poisoning and for hours the only thing I could scream was your name, but you had someone new. My friends called, asked you to talk to me, but you said you couldn't. I know you heard me crying in the background because later that night you called me, you called me and told me you hated knowing I was like this, you told me to stop destroying myself because you couldn't bear to watch. Sadly, the alcohol poisoning hurt less than missing you. You made me a deal that night, told me to stay sober and we could be friends and maybe try again... 2 days later you unfriended me, so the bottle frenzy began. My best friend now hates the sound of your name.. it must have escaped my lips 1,000,000 times. I mean, everything in my life started reminding me of you, living in a constant nostalgia, I couldn't do it. You don't exactly know this, pretty sure you have a vague idea though... 192 days ago, my birthday, I became addicted to MDMA, I know you have a vague understanding of this because the last time you looked into my eyes, you were terrified of what I had become, truth is... I'm terrified too. I use it the most when I'm missing you, and even high, your name still pops out of my mouth, that's when the scary thing happens, I take the bottle, I take the pills and I ask someone to hurt me while I overdose. This is what terrified you.. a handful of pills and a beer that night and i made sure you watched that man step on me in the desert leaving me bruised and scarred. You always told me you would forever care, but when I started trying to die you always looked away, anorexia crept in, alcohol poisoning happened often, I know you must have heard your friends worried tone when they talked about how I was getting my stomach pumped again..... Therapy doesn't work.... you don't escape my mind 43 weeks later, I'm trying to move on and all I do is remind myself..... you're not good enough.... he doesn't want you..... nobody wants you... that's all you make me think. Every time i stalk your page because one of your friends liked my picture or because you decided to pop up on my snapchat all I think is why? Why are you doing this to me? I hate you. I hate what you did to me. F*ck you.