I'm angry at myself,
for feeling angry.
Against my better judgment, I looked at her page.
It's your two year anniversary.
Congratulations.
Congratulations for ******* me while you were dating her.
She wrote that you told her, "I fell in love with you from the moment I met you."
So you are in love with her, but you had the nerve to make love to me.

I no longer want you, I no longer crave you.
I loathe you.

For four years,
I loathe that you slept with other girls, and I continued to crawl back to you.

Maybe thats what makes me angry,
you are doing the exact same thing you did to me,
to her.
And I played a part in it.

The only difference is, she doesn't know.
That you're unfaithful.
That you lie.

But I did, and I stayed.
For four years,
because your words dripped honey,
even though your actions dragged like knives across my skin.