You think that you are being judged for the crime of cheating.
You think my leaving is a punishment but darling, I am not here to crucify you on the cross of infidelity.
For your crimes were long before you stayed that night.
Your first crime was that you should have called me when you were lonely.
But instead, you tell me that you are tired, that it’s late and you want to go to bed.
Say goodnight before going back to swiping right. Hang up on me because someone is on the other line.
Your second crime was keeping me around like a convenient toy.
Like a plaything that you blow up at your whim and fancy.
And once you’ve had your fill, I am deflated, kept back in my box, forgotten until the next time.
Your third crime was the excuses you dispensed: how you’re so busy and that you just couldn’t find the time.
I realised now that none of that was true. You had time for everyone else but me.
Crime number four was for all the promises that you made, five were the ones you never intended to keep.
Six for six years too long that I have waited for you to change your mind.
Seven for the affection you always dangled just out of reach.
I used to think that the opposite of love was hate but I was wrong – it’s indifference.
So I suppose now we are even?
Lucky number eight, you gave him words that I thought belonged to me.
Are your words that cheap? Do you whore them out to anyone who would read them?
You wrote about how you loved him.
Pray tell me this: did you fall at first sight or did you need a shove?
And perhaps I can forgive you all that.
Grant you a pardon you don’t deserve.
But try as I may, I can’t forgive you this:
For your ninth crime is that you asked me to love you.
You begged me to love you when there’s still the taste of his cock in your mouth.
You crawled back to me because you knew that I would let you in.
You came back because I am and have always been the nice guy.
I just thought you should know that I am done finishing last.