There are some things we would like to know, some of them big things, like ‘why wasn’t I enough?’ and ‘of all the lies you told me, why couldn’t you have left “I love you” out of it?’ and some small things, like ‘how long before I can delete you on Facebook?’ and ‘what the fuck is the Netflix password?!’
But we would also like you to know some big things, like ‘people told me not to trust you’ and ‘I wish you happiness (eventually – if, in the meantime, you have an embarrassing sexual experience, or your winning lotto ticket goes through the wash, I would be OK with that)’, and some small things, like ‘you’re lucky I didn’t punch you in the face when you snored’ and ‘I really enjoyed looking through Becky’s ‘Bali 2011′ photos too, and especially liked all the heart eyes emojis you left’. We will miss some things, like the Sunday ice creams and the spontaneous road trips, but not others, like the road rage, or the fact that you still think American Pie is the funniest movie you’ve ever seen. Even after we watched Shaun of the Dead together.
Mostly though, to the ones who broke our hearts, we would like to say this: we will be OK. We’ll be better. We’ll be enough. Not thanks to you, but in spite of you. And we don’t even need the fucking Netflix password because it’s on auto login anyway.