Almost every man I’ve been dumped or ghosted by the last 15 years has inevitably tried to come back to me or confessed this “I try to find you in everyone I meet” bullshit and you know what? Good. That’s my curse on them. I hope they’re woefully unsatisfied with life, I hope I’m a sliver that festers in their brain. I broke off pieces of myself for people and I learned too late real love isn’t that destructive and I want revenge. Good. You broke me I broke you.