is this what you wanted? fine.

this is what you’re waiting for,
right?
the reaction?
the— look i told you she’s crazy bro spin off?
to whatever the fuck that was?

yo, seriously—
you could've just texted,
"i miss you"
”this fucking sucks”
”i’m lost”

because yeah—
dude.
same.
always.
bro wtf.

you didn't have to
fucking missle launch
mid-morning summer camp run.
i'm out here with a car
full of innocent-ass kids,
dunkin donuts on the brain,
a random dude named
"maybe: idk" blowing up my texts—
and then there's me,
chillin,
opening a random old ass wallet.
finding some ancient-ass business card
from the before-we-ever-fucked-times,
sending it like
"lol, remember this shit?"

homie,
i wasn't even OUT HERE like that.

i’ve been ducking dudes—
and trying to forget
what the fuck you turned in to.

babe,
i literally asked you
to help me learn
how to shoot the fucking glock
like, hold my arm like this?
girl—like the range,
i was serious.
like two weeks ago and 👤👻.
and honestly my dude?
i didn’t notice.
i wasn't mad.
i was just confused.
worried, even.
like brah—
you good?

and then one fucking pussy joke later.

and it’s BRRRRRRINGGGGGG—

full nuclear.
me blinking stupidly
looking at the eight year old
next to me like—
nah wait,
bro, what?
yo,
is this the wrong number?
what's happening?
why are you so mad,
dude?

kids just staring ahead like
damn—
that full-grown man
is angry,
auntie.

but listen, babe:
i’m taking the gloves fucking off.
because wow.
what the fuck was that?
hey—listen.
this isn't me throwing punches.

this is me admitting,
straight up,
you got me.
is that what you needed?

ok.
you broke me, man.
you really fucking did.
and it wasn’t this morning—
yo, i didn't even know we were at war.

so—fine.
here it is:

you were always the love of my life.

so what.
does that help?

i left an entire marriage
barely blinked,
just like yeah, cool.
whatever.
but my guy,
when you ghosted—
just one text,
one half-assed
"let’s do this"—
shit left me shattered, bro.
like full stop.
pathetic.
on the floor,
crying for months.

bro— i smoke signal confessed
my full love arc
to your whole ass ma.
”like yeah, i say this shit with my whole chest”
fully shameless.
because idgaf.
so yep. it was like that.
devastating.

like a stupid little bitch.

and yes—
it was fucking gross.
and i can’t be so fucking weak.
and i hate myself for it.

and all this time,
i've just been trying
to get the fuck over who you used to be.
honestly.
genuinely.
i was just out here living,
fucking random dudes,
trying not to feel the fucking pain.
bro.
i wasn't scheming,
wasn't raging.
i was just surviving.

but yeah, babe.
be so mad.
because maybe somewhere
i said the fucking truth.
because yes—
want me to say it?
i detest her.
i probably always will.
big. fucking. deal.
anyone who got their whole ass wild,
fucking disgustingly beautiful
fucking future
literally fucking looted?

by some fucking random girl?
who clearly makes her whole
fucking identity
”ruining your day
because sam exists”
and she’s can’t let go.

bro—you think that’s normal?
okie doke.

so?
yeah she fucking won.
she stole everything and you fucking know it.

so we both lose.
so she can—
whatever the fuck
she does.

so i’ll make a formal statement:

you know our worst version of that family
was nothing compared to these
independent nightmares we both now live,
stuck in the graveyard of our epic-level romance,
something we'll both die wishing we were brave enough not to abandon.

and i fucking was.
i bled.
pathetic.
and i don't even care
to say it out loud,
like nah,
i ain't embarrassed.
i’ll repeat.
would have spun the fucking planet
opposite direction for you
but you COULDN'T DO ANYTHING.

you just let me fucking die.
and i can't.

you do realize what we actually lost, right?
every fucking beautiful,
magical,
soul-inspiring thing we could’ve built—
traded for our own worst version of hell.

so what—
are you mad because
i wasn’t talking about you anymore?
baby, i had to.
i had to stop
or i wasn’t gonna survive it.

i told you that.
i begged you to stop hurting me.
so fine.
hate me.
literally.
i can't believe i heard that shit come out of your mouth.
on some random ass wednesday morning.
but that’s fine.

because i love you.
and i don’t need anything else
besides that last phone call
to prove this is the worst fucking version of us.

but hey.
my once sweet fucking angel—
remember.
you are not mad at me.
you’re mad because baby,
you’re single
but still have to move in secret.
you don’t know the kid—
but you’re still playing some bizzare ass game.
for a prize you never intended to win.
because this fucking clownshow
is easier than signing the fucking paperwork.

you know—
the standard shit?
living a real life shit?
with a real family shit?

babe.
get mad.
because we both know—
you're mad at the bitch who trapped you
in something you begged her not to.
and you don’t even get the morning sex—
but in your lowest fucking moment—
yep, she stole everything.
and became obsessedly jealous of the girl
she knew was the kind of beyond-fictional,
blowout,
once-in-a-lifetime,
soul-shattering love story
you actually had.

she saw it.
she told me she saw it.
she heard the
”love of my life” shit
and her mind exploded—
because babe?
everyone fucking saw it.

because it was once in a fucking universe shit.

and she wanted it.

but when she couldn’t have it—
she fucking desecrated it.
stomped her fucking feet—
blamed jesus,
until both our fucking lives
were set in fucking flames.

on purpose.
she burned you down.
so now?
she’ll hold you by the throat forever,
for never being me.

and the saddest part?
i was right. fucking. here.

you picked.
a million times—
no one.

but definitely never me.