Dear person who shall remain nameless,
I burned your socks in the University Villa parking lot today. They were socks that you forgot to wash and I threw them in with my load of whites today. I was folding my clothes later and I found them. They were your average guys socks: white with grey patches on the heel and toe. Just looking at them made me want to cry, they were the last piece of you I have. I returned your shirts and threw out your lemonade from dinner. You weren't one for pictures and I'd already thrown out our movie ticket stubs, I only had these two socks left.
The whole thing was so symbolic. I washed these socks, no big deal. But I gave and gave and gave everything I had to you. And I wasn't just burning socks. I was burning hurt. I was burning the guessing games. I was burning you, you freaking loser, for making you feel that I wasn't good enough for you. I was burning being ditched for stupid video games or girls named after spices. I was burning bending over backwards to make you happy when you couldn't do the same for me. I was burning thinking that you would change, that the old you would come running back admitting all your wrongs and I would forgive you and we'd live happily ever after.
And you know what? Now I know that it isn't that I'm not good enough for you anymore. YOU are not good enough for ME. Yeah that's right. You think that you can keep me in my place by making me feel bad about myself. Well not anymore buddy. I am awesome. I am strong, I am funny, I am smart, and I am pretty cute. So you know what? You lost your chance. Sorry, but not really.
It was all very Taylor Swift. Socks burn surprisingly well and we kept the fire contained, so our precious apartment complex is safe. But I am done, no more. And that's a promise.