I couldn’t bring myself to admit it at the time, but I was jealous. Extremely, relentlessly, heartbreakingly jealous because I knew that I was losing you. It’s the first time I’ve ever admitted it. I didn’t want to be selfish. I wanted to be happy for you, but at that time I wasn’t happy for you because I was sad for me. I felt so much pain that instead of sharing in sadness about losing each other, that there was instantly someone else for you but I don’t know how you truly felt inside, I took everything so literally and I just felt so exposed and vulnerable after everything we shared, all the talking, the closeness, the feelings, the experiences…it felt as though it had meant nothing to you at all, that I was nothing at all and I just felt so…insignificant. I felt that I had a huge you shaped void and I think I felt angry that straight away there was no room for missing me because there was already a replacement…I just felt like a cheap toy, not that my feelings were right, but it was so painful to feel so…disposable. So unimportant to you when you had been so important to me. Maybe I should have just admitted I was jealous. But I already felt less than rubbish on the floor, I felt so thin & small, poor, uneducated, empty, failing you in comparison when she came along, I dont think I wanted to seem even lower than that by adding jealous into that by speaking it out loud. But I’ve said it now. Everything about you hurt so much to lose…when we laid together closely and just seemed like one continuous person…losing you was like shaving off my skin and burning off the freckles that you once said were like constellations of stars…I was jealous. I loved you so much. I wanted you…I’m so sorry. 💔

– M