The Letter

Dear friend,
we were once so close.
We shared the most intimate
secrets you can entrust in
another human being.
At first, it was so wrong.
I knew you had a girlfriend
but I allowed it to happen anyway.
I know this is my fault.

But then you broke up with her
and stayed at my house;
I thought maybe, just maybe
this time, this person was different
from all the others.
Maybe it was my turn to learn of
this "love" everyone seeks after
so desperately.

I admit, I became attached.
All I wanted was to be around
you, smell your cologne that lingered
in the air even after you were gone,
feel your strong hands protect me from the world.
But it was just pretense.
I'm just the whore who occupied your time.
I was just another vagina you could fuck.

Ha. This love you told me you felt for me.
LIES.
All of it.
Does "love" even exist?
You say you love your girlfriend,
but how can you love two people at once?

You invited me in again.
You slept with me over and over
but "forgot" to tell me you were with her once
again. So many lies.
Once again, I am made the fool.
Believing that I am more than just
boobs and a vagina.

My heart swelled with anger towards you
and towards her and the whole world.
Nothing makes sense,
nothing even matters.
I wish I could just
d
i
e

Or maybe I could just become a prostitute.
At least I could make money whoring around.
It's not secret that I wish I could be a normal
woman and find a man to marry.
Despite how angry I still am
for hurting me so greatly,
all I really want is you.