Dear ex in my inbox,
The way I see it is there are three types of “inbox exs”.
- The lonely inbox ex. He probably wants to hookup or even get back together. He realizes he lost something great and now regrets his life. He also can’t get any other girl to smile at him so he’s feeling small and lonely. It’s sad.
- The angry inbox ex. He’s victimized himself, made you a “b*txh*, and told all his pickup truck friends that HE broke up with YOU. In his message, he makes use of all the curse words he’s learned in his however many years on earth and let all his “feminazi” frustration out on you. It’s also sad.
- The apologetic inbox ex. He’s moved on, realized though you may have damaged his pride, he may also have hurt you. He has a new girlfriend but his conscience is keeping him up at night. He’s in your inbox to make amends. This one is no longer sad.
Which makes it all the more annoying.
In this letter, I’ll be referring to inbox ex #3.
So dear inbox ex #3,
The right thing to do is probably forgiveness and wishing you the best in life. But I’m not there, and honestly, I don’t have to be there. You hurt me, you used me, and you left me, so no, I don’t owe you anything.
You’re all slightly different. Maybe you cheated, maybe you manipulated, maybe you just left without a word. Or maybe you made your girlfriend feel so insecure and let them know that you’re the best they are ever going to get, and since you left, life only goes down from there.
That’s not true, though. You were probably the low point. They came to you because they didn’t know their true worth.
But now you’re gone.
And suddenly they’re starting to realize who they truly are.
I thought I was a raggedy maid and I had found a prince. I thought you were the highlight and I should thank the gods that I found you. I thought that you were where my happiness came from.
For a moment after you left, I thought I was less then the scum on your shoe.
No one would love me.
No one would care.
Then I saw a golden mirror, and in it I didn’t see the torn, broken, dirty girl I expected to see.
I saw a queen.
A crown sat on my head. A newly crafted, unique gown rested on my shoulders. My head was held high and a smile was growing across my lips. My heart was beating once again. My skin was clear and my makeup was flawless.
You didn’t break me.
You broke yourself.
So apologize all you want, remind me what you did that created the queen I am today. Beg for forgiveness so you can move forward with your new girlfriend with a clear conscience.
But I won’t give you the satisfaction.
I will not say ‘it’s okay’ and I will not thank you for giving me the time of day.
For a moment I feel anger at your audacity of searching for forgiveness.
But that moment passes, along with any time of day I may give you. The energy I would use on you is too valuable.
I have a kingdom to run, after all.
Because I am a queen, and one die I’ll find a king that won’t have to apologize for breaking me.
You’re just an ex in an inbox.
Me, the queen.