It’s silly of me to be doing this rather than my work. There’s loads. We still talk. Sometimes I miss what we had but other times.... well I remember why I had to end it. There’s a constant emptiness in me. I’m sorry I thought you could fill it. I was dependent. But you broke me. I broke you too. But you can’t keep saying I did all this stuff. You calling me a slut wasn’t fair when I said I was touched by a guy when I said no. I won’t babble on cause you won’t see this but... I still love you sometimes. Just not all the time I guess.