This is the last time you'll see me. I will be a ghost, lingering and haunting, and I hope the memory of how you treated me haunts you. I hope it keeps you awake at night, thinking about how you messed up. I treated you so well, yet you threw it all away. We could have been good to each other, but you broke me, and in turn, it will devastate you.

I’m not evil; I pray you won’t feel what I felt, but you’ll get everything you deserve. You’ll look for me everywhere—in every person you meet and in everything you do—but you won’t find me. You lost me, and you can no longer find me. You’ll no longer find me in me.

You’ll hate the taste of coffee and how it reminds you of our coffee nights. Every food you taste will leave a bitter reminder. You’ll hate going back to your place because I left my scent there. You’ll crave my embrace and try to recreate it with anyone, but you will fail. You’ll hate being photographed because I took too many of you.

You’ll hate being the backride. You’ll hate exploring, going out to different places, and meeting new people. You’ll hate and hurt. You’ll break yourself; you’ve lost. I've lost as well, but you’ll have it worse.

I will never witness you suffer as I did, but your biggest punishment will be who you are. My final act of love will be to leave you be. Your loss.