Dear Asshole

My heart throbs, then lurches to a stop. Through the pain lodged in my throat, I stared in disbelief. In this moment, for the first time, the truth becomes crystal clear. You do not love me.

For how could one who loves me look so coldly upon my pain?

My weakness is laid out before me. My naivety a pill too hard to swallow. I have given my life to this. Every molecule of myself turned into game pieces that I put on the board, hoping to give our relationship the ultimate chance for success. So much so, that those game pieces have been worn down with age and use, having been thrown about and abused. My dirty laundry has been aired out a thousand times for all the world to see. And all of this, in high hopes, with me wanting to give our relationship the best chance at success.

We never talk about the fact that your laundry stays folded and nicely put away where it belongs. Your ugliest parts tucked neatly inside. A common courtesy, that I thought I was doing for you. After all, who wants the world staring at their dirty smudged underwear?

But as I stare at you this time, the truth becomes evident. It is indisputable. You do not love me.

I’m taken aback by the power that fills me with the truth of that realization. It occurs to me, what I would do if I saw your dirty underwear exposed for all the world to see. For I’d sooner have the world see my failures than to put you through the pain that comes with the scrutiny of judgement.

But here’s the curveball that neither of us saw coming. I aired myself out. The Good. The Terrible. The Ugly. And all for the simple chance to feel loved. And in this moment, I’m struck by just how much I deserved to see this truth. For as the truth revealed me through your eyes, she also brought another gift. The gift of Self Love.

You see, in all the time I spent trying to prove my worth and love to you, what I was actually learning, was how to value myself. So, here’s one last toast to you and my need for you to love me. Lift a glass high and I’ll cheer for you with great enthusiasm.

And then you can spend the rest of eternity dwelling on my dirty, smelly, laundry. Or, you can choose to get over yourself and realize that just because your underwear is still buried in the closet, doesn’t mean it’s clean or streak free. It only means that I had enough love and respect for you to leave it where it belongs.

And the good news is? It doesn't really matter which you choose. At least, not for me. Because from now on, I’m choosing to respect and love myself enough to do the same. So, next time you want to play chess... buy a damn chess board. We’ll see who wins when the pieces being used aren’t broken shards of my self-confidence.

You’ll find my game to be much more on point when my own failures aren’t staring back at me with every single move.You'll also find me to be a much stronger adversary.

Oh, and just in case it still needs to be said, Check Mate, Asshole. I’ll see you again next match and you’d better believe that I’ll not stop fighting for a win just to feed your ego.

Love Heart.