I anticipate the times I will wait for you, at random places, to get off work just so I can see you as soon as.
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you should have left 7 months ago.
you know you’re better than me, you know you can get better than me. you write about it. as if i don’t know. as if i never saw. yet you choose to stay and whine and complain, that me being myself, the way i treat you or other people is not good enough.
i’m never good enough, even without having to make past mistakes, i will never be good enough. because i will never be your ex, no matter how much you miss her i don’t know what in your little meatball of static electricity would even appreciate what you see in me. because if that little thing found something to hold on to baby, you need to start taking your pills because you’re just making them up in your weeny head. isn’t it obvious since you’ve started making excuses for me when the deep seated pain of you getting tainted goods surfaces all the time?
so i wish you all the best, or perhaps you won’t need it, because they want you when they’re perfectly sober anyway.