Because texting your ex is a bad idea. Calling your ex for any reason is a bad idea. Drunk-dialing and drunk-texting are especially bad ideas. But you have to do something, and you're driving your friends nuts.
Hence, The Ex-Files. Not really a journal of breaking up and moving on, but a collection of the things you think when you drive by an ex's house and the car's not home, the way you feel when they don't call when they say they will, the things you want to ask or say or scream or carve into their car doors. The things that you have to say but are better left unsaid. This is the place.
If you have a story/quote/rant/thought to share, email me: thingsyoullneversay[at]gmail[dot]com
Oct 10
franklieu:
Today the clouds were dark and it threatened to rain all morning. A young girl had a bunch of heart shaped balloons and one got away from her. As I watched it fly away, I thought—letting you go is the hardest thing I’ve had to do, and I can’t seem to move on—how do I do it?
It sucks that I knew we were done and I tried so hard to be over it and then realized one morning that not only was I still hurting, but that I would go back to you in heartbeat, even after all this. It’s like I was the girl with the heart-shaped balloons, and I’m still upset that you slipped away. Come back?
