April 24, 2025
By Jordan Mae Rivera

Things would’ve been different if you’d been honest.
Not just with me. With yourself.

You always wanted her.
I see that now—not just in hindsight, but in every moment I gaslit myself into thinking I was overreacting.

You told me you loved me.
You told me you wanted to build a life with me.
You told me she was just your “best friend.”
But you were lying.
And I believed you because it was easier than confronting the truth: that I wasn’t what you really wanted. That I was just… here. Convenient. Comfortable.

The thing that hurts most is that I let it slide.
I let you hang out with people who said things that made my skin crawl. I let you cross lines I’d drawn to protect my own peace. I kept shrinking, just so you wouldn’t feel judged.

I should’ve walked away the second I found out she was that close to you.
But I didn’t.
I stayed.
I tried to be cool, understanding, “not like other girls” or whatever.
I betrayed myself for someone who couldn’t even give me the bare minimum of emotional honesty.

And now? I’m done.
No dramatic goodbye. No big speech.
Just this.

I don’t have access to Signal anymore.
I had to change my number.
This is the last message you’ll get from me, in any form.

You chose your story.
This is me writing the final line in mine.