The Bitch

The Bitch


When I broke up with him I felt nothing
I never loved him anyway
More glad than sad to be rid of him
I never meant to be cruel, I just didn’t love him

If you were to hear his side of the story
You would be lead to believe I was an assassin:

“She shot me in my heart, the parasitic bitch, and then stabbed my wound.”
“She kicked my soul, making it bleed.”
“She’s a cold-hearted BITCH with no soul!”

We had planned our lives together, though the dream was always his
I never saw us as “us”
There is no reason why
He was not pathetic
He was not indecent
He was not a bad person

He just was not the one.

I walked away with no desire to ever see him again
I knew he would be hurt…
I knew he would suffer…
I knew that if I leave, it would kill him to live

…but still I left him
I was not sad
I did not care for his pain because there could be no other way

As long as my plan was to leave, there would be hurt
That’s just the way it is

Over the years he would have changed my name several times:
“That Heartless Whore!”
“That Bastarded Bitch!”
“That Gutless, Spineless, Piece of SHIT!”

Every dastardly colorful name he could use
Except the one name I truly deserved to be called:
The Bitch who did not love him
And there was nothing he could do