I’m sorry that it couldn’t have been with me like we planned. But I understand now that promises are always broken. It’s how we deal with it that matters. You broke a promise to me and I waited two years for you to come back. I broke a promise to you and you threw me away like garbage. And for what? It must be bittersweet. I know you. You’ll get drunk. Cry for what could have been. And wonder if you should reach out. But you won’t. You’re too afraid of the rejection you have such ease handing out. You’d rather fuck unavailable men and maintain your shallow friendships and fake church persona for your parents. Should you break no contact? I don’t know. What’s the worst that could happen?