I start to regret everything that happened in March. I don’t want them anymore. You can keep all the memories, if it were even worth remembering for you—but do me a favor and please please please don’t get them mixed up with your other girls’.

This is all the goodbye I should’ve meant. The jealously are worth nothing. Go ahead and love her and watch me watch you unflinching. Let’s just highlight the whole pages and marked them nonsense. I had to admit I still try to find us sometimes in the ripped papers. [noted that it is ripped. noted that I shoved it down the fire now]

I won’t let you ruin my favorite song. I won’t let you ruin this safe heaven. This is where I learn to put myself above the idea of you / of letting you go / of wishing you would just ******* come back. This where I stop romanticizing pain. This is where I stop scrubbing my skin with glass to dug you up. This to say: I let you hurt me—that shouldn’t have happened. I start to be honest to myself: you don’t love me. you left. that isn’t really the end of the world.