I’ve deleted you from my life.
You won’t hear from me again. Ever. I’ve blocked your phone number. If you text me, I will never receive it. If you call, it will go straight to voicemail, but I will never receive the message. Technology can be wonderful.
Sure, if you really wanted to contact me you could. You could call the office, text my work cell phone or send an email. But I’m betting you don’t.
Last week the man in my life found out about you. By accident. By reading a text message to a friend of mine. It hurt him badly. We got past it.
I had saved screen shots of hundreds of text messages. Gone. Delete. Empty recycle bin. All photos of you — banished.
I’m not hurting him again. All I can do is show him, every day, that he’s the one I want.
Now I understand how you could have written me off so quickly when TW found out about me. You love her. You don’t want to lose her.
Yeah, I know the feeling.
And I also realize you never really loved me.
I’ve got a shot at happiness with an amazing man. I’m not about to mess that up.