Shouldn’t I be angry that your first words after we touched were filled with regret? Wasn’t it you who invited me on this adventure to your apartment?

We sealed the offer with kisses and banter, giving a new meaning to New Year’s resolutions. You say you don’t hold the power in our dynamic, and you’re right—I do.

You’re afraid I’ll run off and tell my friends, who will eventually reveal it to your colleagues. As if I weren’t a woman, the rioters would hang me from a tree while you walk away freely.

Charmed by your words, I believed you liked me even before seeing pictures of me you’d never known. When we first met, you held back, and I thought you were such a gentleman.

You admitted you didn’t want like the distance after getting what you wanted. I swallowed my pride, took on the role of the ‘dude’ in this situation, and said, ‘Love from afar is the love of a fool.’

I still hold control, but I won’t abuse it because I like you. Apparently, we’re also friends with a premium membership, allowing you to swipe the card whenever it pleases you.

I hope that in your new town, you remember to stable your horse and never forget to cite the ethics book with ‘nature comes first.’ I can’t help but wonder if I was the first or the tenth girl you’ve told that lie to before.

If you can’t control yourself and prefer to act like a dog, maybe you should consider wearing a collar and practicing celibacy like a good priest. Yes, you’ve hurt me, but I won’t tell a soul because, in the end, I liked you first.

You saw through my weary eyes and still pursued me—the girl of your worst nightmares, with a crown that shines brighter than any you’ve seen before. You claimed this didn’t mean we weren’t suited for each other and that there was a narrative written before.

But you wrote the ending with your happiness in mind, leaving me as just a footnote in the chapter you’ve closed. It’s as though I was a mere passing character in your story, while you moved on to the next adventure without a second thought.