Don’t say it. You don’t have to. I already know the next words that are going to come out of that mouth of yours. “It’s not you, it’s me.” The same words you said to everyone before me, and probably will say to everyone after me.

They warned me about you. They told me that it wasn’t going to last, no matter how good it was going. You were always on the prowl for something more, they said, something better. And when you found it, you were going to leave me behind. But I refused to believe them. I trusted you when you said forever, and I was willing to do anything and everything to make it forever. That’s why I gave myself up to you.

That was my biggest mistake. I should have never let it get that far. I should have stopped you, left before anything more could happen. But you said forever, and I wanted forever. So I stayed, promising myself that this was the ticket to forever.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t, and it never was. Something I had already known, but didn’t want to admit, not to myself, not to you, not to anyone. I didn’t want to admit I was wrong. I was always too stubborn for that.

How many times did you tell me that you loved me? It’s the same amount of times you lied to me. If you loved me, if you ever really, truly loved me, it would have been harder for you to move on. You wouldn’t have dumped me and walked away with someone else before you could take a second breath. You wouldn’t have been able to do that. You would have had at least a bit of remorse, a bit of decency!

I wish I could say that I lied to you to. I wish I could say that those kisses, those whispers of “I love you” weren’t real, that they didn’t mean anything. But they did. I did love you. I’m not that good of an actress to fake the kind of spark I felt when I kissed you.

But the magic is gone. The charade has been lost. Once I realized what you truly were, the spell had broken. I was able to walk away. It hurt, hurt more than anything I had ever experienced before, but I was still able to walk away, alone, with my head held high.

That’s not to say that it still doesn’t hurt when I see you. That’s not to say that when someone says your name memories of you, of us, don’t go flashing through my mind, weighing down my heart with the past. Because they do. I can’t stand to see you, smiling, with another girl, different from the one that you had dumped me for. You dumped her, too. She didn’t even last as long as us. But maybe that’s a good thing. As far as I know, she didn’t give herself to you, something she will find to be a good thing in the future.

I know what you are. I know exactly what you are. I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before. I should have recognized all the signs, the look of lust in your eyes, the want, no, need, to have as many girls as you can in the shortest amount of time. You’re a player.