Author: Elena D. Bennett
April 21, 2025
I don’t know why I keep going back to it. The thing that hurts the most is knowing I was the one who allowed it to drag on for so long. It was never supposed to be like this. We had dreams, plans, a future we were supposed to share—but somewhere, deep down, I knew I wasn’t your priority. You were always too wrapped up in her. She was never just a “best friend.” She was your everything, and I just couldn’t see it for a while.
I should’ve known the moment you told me about her, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about her. It should’ve been a red flag, a sign that I wasn’t as important as I thought I was. I was always second. She was the one you looked at with that spark. She was the one who made you smile in ways I never could. And yet, I stayed. I convinced myself that maybe I was just being paranoid. But now, I see it clearly. I let myself be the placeholder. I allowed myself to believe I was enough.
You were always lying to me—lying to yourself. You never really wanted to marry me. You wanted to be with her, but you couldn’t let go of the comfort I offered. I was the convenient option when she didn’t need you, when you didn’t get what you wanted from her. And when she thought she might lose you, when she thought she might die alone, she suddenly gave you attention. That’s when everything changed.
And what did I get in return? I got your leftovers, your secondhand affection. You told me you loved me, but your actions never matched those words. Befriending people who shared her views—people who made me feel small, who disrespected boundaries I had set for myself—was a line you crossed that I couldn’t ignore anymore. But I did. I ignored it because I didn’t want to face the truth.
Now, I look at where we are. I don’t have access to Signal anymore. I had to change my number—change everything to get away from the emotional mess you left behind. But you still have my Instagram. You could reach out if you wanted to. You could apologize, explain yourself. But you didn’t. And I don’t think you ever will. You’re too caught up in the past, too afraid to face the consequences of your actions.
I don’t regret leaving, even though it’s painful. The hardest part isn’t that you’ve moved on—it’s realizing that you never truly cared. You were never as invested as you said you were. And I can’t keep holding onto that.
I hope one day you’ll wake up and realize what you lost. But for now, all I can do is move forward. Let the past stay where it belongs—behind me.
