At what point do you have to say enough is enough? It has never been more clear to me - I deserve so much better. I've made a lot of mistakes but I'll give thanks to gods I don't believe in that I didn't give you that. The more I learn about you, the less I like. The lies are beginning to pile up and every word that comes out of your mouth makes my stomach turn and my blood boil. I get sick with the thought of your hands on me, your taste in my mouth. Even still I find myself making excuses on your behalf, but learning to compromise, to respect, to be considerate - they're all things you should have picked up by now. You asked what I see in you, and now I really don't know. Selfishness, mostly. Things make more sense now - it's no wonder they always leave you.

I'll be damned if I waste one more thought on you. You're not worth my trouble, my time, my grief. Go off in the world and screw up your life, sleep with girls that you're incapable of respecting, and then blame everyone else for your problems. I'm done with this, with you.