I went to high school with him.  He was an ass then and is an arrogant ass now.  Unfortunately, it took me awhile to figure it out the second time.  

For some strange reason, out of no where you messaged me on Facebook.  I wasn’t going to answer. I hated you in high school.  But, damn, you were persistent.  Finally, I said hi back, we exchanged the usual pleasantries and before I knew it, we were talking almost non stop.  For 2 weeks straight we talked on the phone, through Facebook, we emailed and used Yahoo messenger. You made me feel like I was important.  You acted like you cared.  I knew I couldn’t have you….but you made me feel so good.  I hadn’t felt like that in years.  It was intoxicating.  

And then one day, it abruptly stopped.  No warning, no explanation.  You were gone.  I went to your Facebook page and your status said you were on your way to get your wife and kids from  the train station.  Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?  Did you know I cried the entire day?!  ALL FUCKING DAY!  And the stupid thing is, when you messaged me a few days later, I was happy to hear from you.  I forgot how much you hurt me.  So I spent the next six months eagerly waiting for any scrap you would throw at me. I believed you when you told me I was important to you, even though it was getting to the point where you messaged me once a month and only for sex.   I remember the last real conversation we had.  It was in January 2012, we were talking about music and that’s when you mentioned how much you liked Lily Allen.  It’s funny how her song Smile reminds me of you now.  I don’t normally relish in other people’s misfortune and pain, but I guess you’re the exception.  

Little by little I phased you out of my life.  I unfollowed your Tumblr, Instagram, and last year I finally blocked you on Facebook.  I deleted all your emails and pictures.  But for some fucking reason, your picture comes up in the image section when I google my name.  My heart no longer skips a beat when I hear Yahoo messenger.  I no longer wake up in the middle of the night and scroll through my emails looking for your name.  The only reason I am here writing this Patrik is because the other day I went to my Amazon account and guess whose wish list popped up on my dash?  And the amazing thing was, I felt nothing.