Lol. I’m actually breaking up with you. How fucking ironic, that, after all your unsuccessful attempts on leaving me, now it’s actually me who’s dumping you!
For an unbearably long time I’ve tried to help you make it work, to adjust myself to your precious ideas of how your fairytale dream relationship should look like. It hurts to think about all the money we wasted on couple’s therapy to make it work. And it hurts even more to think about the ridiculous things I’ve tried out to make you stay with me. Like, accompanying you to your bullshit concerts or adding a “what do you think?” at the end of every fucking utterance. “So, I’m going to do the shopping and then I’d like to take a shower or have a wank or both depending on my mood. What do you think?”
For long enough I’ve been dough in your hands, listening to every time you sighed because you couldn’t form me right. It was so fucking humiliating being forced to beg every time you wanted to break up with me. “Please, give me another chance, darling! I know I can live up to your standards if I try harder! Please!” It felt like every bit of love you gave to me had to be earned with the abandonment of a little piece of my dignity.
But you know what? Last night I had an epiphany. I’m not the sad one in our relationship, you are. We are obviously extremely ill-suited and yet you are not able to see this and break up for good. Every time you respond to my begging it’s actually you who’s abandoning your self-worth. You obviously don’t like who I am. But, at the same time, you’re so emotionally dependent on me it leaves you inept to ever cut me out of your life for good. And that’s sad. It’s so sad I’ve decided that I don’t want to be with you anymore at all. And, in contrast to you, I mean it. So, kiss my ass and go to hell!