Your ex sent me a video on snapchat at 3 am.
She was drunk and she was talking about how you asked if you could get back together with her. She had a lot to say about how fuck you but she wished you the best.
So here’s my two cents.
Fuck you and the horse you came riding in.
Fuck your apologies and fuck your “I’m getting better.”
Because at the end of the day, you, my friend, yes you, are
a fucking asshole. I admire the fuck out of her for wishing you the best, but even though, the whole time we were together, you thought I was her, I’m not. So here I am telling you
that I hope you get a flat tire. I hope you order pizza with extra cheese, and they sent you light cheese. May your soda be always flat. I hope you have to get somewhere and end up in traffic. I hope you walk out onto the street and step on gum,
and step on dog shit. I hope you go to pay for drinks with tinder girl and your card gets declined. I hope you’re talking on the phone and you phone gets cut. I hope you get a bad haircut. I hope you’re late to work. May your music forever buffer and your youtube videos never load. I wish you were a girl and had a pregnancy scare, alone, in a McDonald’s bathroom like I did (even though I know you’re a guy). I hope someone breaks your heart. At this point, with all the shattered pieces you have left behind, you fucking deserve it.
I hope your ex finds her peace. I hope she dates a hot, 6’5 guy with light eyes and a great sense of humor. I hope you feel it right before going to sleep, the pain in your chest. The same one I felt for months after the wreck happened. The same way she felt it when you wrecked her heart. I hope you go fuck yourself.