Complicit Ex-Girlfriend Two Minutes Notice

Dear Poop Head,

I bet that you'd be making the surprised Pikachu face if you were to read all of this. Sure, we got into an awful fight two years ago that led to us taking a break until the end of the month, but we seemed to have ended the relationship on good terms without screams or tears. We eventually returned to texting each other a few months later, and I even showed up to a show that you directed and starred in. Heck, I gave you a hug and returned your stuff.

So, why am I writing this resignation letter that you'll probably never read?

You're such a good actor that you're a master in acting like a nice guy. You had me fooled when we met in that group video call back in 2020. I was led to believe that you'd be a safe place in those trying times. Eventually, you had me wrapped around your finger. I couldn't stop thinking about you, I felt like I could tell you anything, and I even lost my v card to you. In my eyes, you were a lifesaver.

As your girlfriend, I'd ignored most of your red flags. Not even your not-so-subtle hints about your desire to sleep with me could chase me away. Honestly, I should've dumped you after the first and only time I had you as a director. Remember that virtual showcase you directed me in back in January 2021? Do you remember what you said in response to my solo performance? No? Didn't think so. After seeing the recording of me depicting a teenager having an out-of-body experience as she's being strangled, you said, "Hey. I f**ked that girl." You were so shocked that I didn't take it as a compliment. Dude, I was asked to do the show because I was your girlfriend, and I wanted to prove that I deserved to be there like everybody else. Instead, all I got was conformation that I got the role by sleeping with the director. The only reason I didn't dump you was because I didn't want my first relationship to end so soon.

After years of sweeping things under the rug, the final nail in the coffin came about in May 2023. You had just directed and starred in a production of Much Ado About Nothing, and I did a different production of the same show the following weekend. After viewing the show with a scowl across your face, you left without saying goodbye. Instead of apologizing for leaving, you ranted about how the show didn't go the way you wanted, and you concluded by telling me not to tell anyone that you didn't like the show. Normally, I would’ve never exposed your problematic traits to anyone due to my love for you. However, I was so angry and heartbroken that I exposed you to a friend who saw me cry after you had left. We had already heard from the friend who drove you home that you left because you couldn’t stop being a director for five minutes, so I was just giving further confirmation at that point.

In all honesty, I initially felt bad for “ruining your reputation” (your words, not mine). You were such a skilled gaslighter that you were able to make me feel guilty for not letting your BS slide. It was enough for me to practically beg on my knees for forgiveness. However, I nearly snapped when you had the balls to compare you leaving the show because you didn’t like it to that one time I asked you to turn off a movie because it reminded me of a traumatizing experience that I went through. For your information, a figurative ass*ult on the eyes is not the same thing as a literal ass*ult. And to top it off, you’d refused to turn it off until after I’d watched a scene where a guy gets his head blown off. Yes, I had seen plenty of excessive horror movies, but even I have my limits. When you made that comparison, you’d crossed a serious line.

Luckily for you, I was too nice and submissive to break up with you by ripping you a new one. Instead, I suggested that we take a break until the end of the month. When we made the phone call on May 31st, 2023, I tossed the ball to you by asking what we should do. The reason why I had you cast your vote first was because you would often leave the decision-making up to me. Ironically, you would often get pissed when I made a decision that you didn’t like. Since this ship was sinking, I wanted you to be a man for once and make the decision. Of course, I would’ve broken up with you if you had chosen to stay, but we both knew that this love was dead.

Months went by, and I was still being the “better person” by speaking highly of you. In truth, you did change me for the better. Anytime I did something that actually caused you harm, I immediately took notes and did what I could to improve. Not only did I do a better job of not pressuring s*x on you (even though you did it to me first), but you also encouraged me to stop getting wasted on purpose. When I got drunk that one night and messaged you about how I wanted to unalive myself, I felt so guilty that I severely limited my drinking. I had a couple of good reasons to speak highly of you. However, my friends were confused as to why I was still messaging you and following you on social media after everything you had done. They told me to snap out it, and I did just that. One of the things I did was unfollow you and remove you as a follower on TikTok. That didn’t stop you from commenting on one of my videos, so I put my foot down and blocked you completely.

Now, before you start telling me that you’re autistic and couldn’t help it, let me say the one thing that you said more times than “I love you”; “I shouldn’t have to remind you that you’re not the only autistic person in this relationship.” Anytime I tried to inform you that you were crossing my boundaries or call you out for anything as nicely as possible, you’d respond with your favorite line. You especially loved using that one on me when I rightfully got mad at you for leaving the show and said that you had to make it up to me. Sure, I might’ve sounded b*tchy by demanding that you make it up to me, but let me remind you of the time you told me that you felt like you “weren’t allowed to be autistic”. One of the things you were referring to was the time that you confessed that you hated how you had to mask your autism whenever I had a meltdown that I couldn’t control. I felt so guilty that I did what I could to mask my autism so you could unmask and be happy. Remember when you kept telling me to seek the therapeutic aid that I didn’t have access to at the time? Well, I am finally able to receive it, and my autism-friendly therapist thinks that you’re awful. The other thing that you referred to was when I finally snapped after your hundredth time of pausing a video to explain something when I didn’t ask you to. Prior to that, you dumped on one of my special interests and I said nothing. Whenever I brought up some of my favorite pop artists and songs, you’d interrupt me to share your opinion that “pop music isn’t real music”. If my special interest wasn’t the same as yours, you didn’t want to hear it.

As I’m writing this, I noticed that tomorrow, May 31st, will be the second anniversary of our breakup. When I celebrated the first anniversary, I told my friends that I was proud of how we were able to stay good friends after everything we’d been through. Now that I’m out of my delusional state, I shall celebrate my complete freedom from your BS. I will no longer be the complicit ex-girlfriend who speaks highly of the man who broke her heart without remorse. I think I made that quite clear recently when I saw you at that karaoke bar and sang a song by an artist that you’d shamed me for liking because “pop music isn’t real music”. Granted, I sang a country song, but she also does pop. In the words of Taylor Swift, “I bet you think about me.”

Not-so-sincerely,

The one who had a marvelous time ruining everything (another Tay Tay reference).