“People you may know”, ha! The irony is not lost on me. Were you keeping this account to connect with scantily clad friends, or is this an old account you’ve forgotten the password to? I sleuthed around, and well, I think we know you didn’t forget. I don’t know why I bothered checking. These were things I already knew.
I’d already seen the messages. Your phone was pretty clear. ‘Mahal’ might mean expensive, but in this context it did not. I’d already seen the photos. Your camera was pretty clear. By no means an artistic shot, but the scene as clear as crack. I’d already heard you say it. Our lunch was pretty clear. With arguments as incredulous as Trump’s, I’d already seen your view.
I’d already talked about it, cried about it, wrote about it and moved on from it. So why am I back down here?
Your old flame added me on Facebook recently, which caught me off guard, but also made me curious. Did she want money? Why else would she reconnect, and why now? Did she add you too?
I looked for her on Facebook once, after I saw that incriminating photo of your new conquest. I’d wanted so much to connect with her kids, to ask them if they knew what I knew, to break them and make them hurt. Perhaps I’d get some sweet revenge. But some part of me empathised with her, because I blame you more than I’d ever care about her, and I was never so gutsy. Did she see me as a recommended person she might know because I searched first?
If I’m not going to tell you, I may as well tell everyone. But this crawl space is frustrating and I don’t understand why you’ve put me here. This hell should be yours, it’s not my guilt to bear.
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