I heard from someone who saw you one day, about a month ago, that you were bragging about flirting with some beautiful woman on the street on your way to his house. Don't you get it? YOU ARE MARRIED NOW. This is not shit you do.

I don't want to look after your car for the weekend. I don't want to call you up and hang out. I don't want you to call ME up to hang out. I do not like you. I LOVED YOU. And I was prepared to love you forever, and be the one that stayed, and trusted you.

But apparently I am not partner material.

Boy am I stupid. And so is she for trusting you. Because, quite frankly, I don't think she should.

Anyway, I saw you, and you didn't see me, and my inner guts tell me that what you were looking for in the crowd was me.

I'm glad you didn't find me. The fact that you didn't shows that I do not radiate for you like a loved someone should. You might have made the right choice, but I don't think your wife did.

And in the meantime I see potential in so much. So many things. I see potential in English PhDs. I see potential in geologists. I see it in people who are brilliant, wonderful, fun, friendly, funny, gentle, charismatic and solid in who they are. And they do not see it in me.

Why am I so invisible? What is this? I don't know what it is I'm meant for, if I am, in fact, meant for anything at all. I'm just here, a doormat, a pretty thing for people to admire and pass by, like a vase with some flowers in it, but nothing really worth pondering.

Nobody fucking bothers.