He once whispered that our love lacked sex, that desire was but a fading ember between us. So now, I hope he is consumed by lust each night, drowning in the fever he so desperately craved. May flesh and pleasure grant him the solace that my boundless, aching love never could.

Alright, here it is. He ended things with me, made me leave our home, then chased after me to rekindle what we had. He gave me hope, only to crush it by confessing that less than a week after I left, he invited a stranger from Tinder into the place we once called home, stripped her bare, and shared a bed with her. And now he plays the victim. "There was never a right moment to tell you," he says. But let’s be real—you know I wrestle with darkness, you know i'm suicidal. Why did you have to make it so excruciatingly cruel? You could have simply told me you no longer loved me. But no, you still say you do. And I still love you, yet I know this has grown into something I can’t survive.

And what fills me with the deepest rage is your effortless way of moving forward, while you left me here to wither in sorrow.

You betrayed our relationship. Betrayed our love. Betrayed our friendship. You betrayed my trust. You betrayed me. You shattered me. You don’t care at all, just go on with your life as if you hadn’t destroyed mine in the worst way possible. But maybe that’s just how it is, maybe all women are like mom and all men are like dad.

I forgot the heavy meds at his place. Now would be a good time to take them.

My fiancé became interested in my only friend from college. Although I don't feel angry at her, since it was one-sided on his part, I still feel bad. He says he no longer feels anything for her, but he once broke up with me to take a chance with her. I feel like I have no more connection, or that my connection with both of them has been completely shaken in a way that makes me feel so lonely.