Even in the so-called golden days with you, they weren’t satisfied because they can’t be. They are wired to crave what they don’t have, to discard what they do. And so the cycle continues. They once painted their past partners as villains, spinning tales of cruelty and betrayal. Yet even then, shadows of those past loves followed them. They compared you. They nudged you to act like another. They pulled your strings with whispers of what someone else once did or didn’t do. Clever, yes, but also desperate—always reaching, never resting.
Through it all, they never truly saw you—not your kindness, not your fire, not your soul. Appreciation wasn’t in their vocabulary. And when you finally stepped free, whether by your own choice or by their reckless discard, that was grace. That was deliverance: the hand of God pulling you out of a dead end and setting you on your true path.
Now, here’s the part they can’t escape: wherever they are, whoever they’re with, regret stalks them. They’ll never admit it publicly. Maybe they’ll hint at it to one of their closest allies, those so-called flying monkeys. Maybe. But inside, they replay the decision like a broken record. They wish they could undo it. They can’t. And it eats at them. So, while you see their pictures on beaches, their champagne toasts, their exotic vacations, it’s smoke and mirrors. Their mind is still circling back to you: wondering if you’re happy, wondering if you’ve moved on, wondering if your silence means you’re free.
Why do they still cling to your belongings, your memories, your essence? Because it was never about love; it was about possession. They clutch what was yours as trophies, relics of ownership. They don’t want to forget you; they can’t. But know this: the cracks in their foundation can’t be painted over. The easy supply will never fix what’s broken inside.
They thought your heart was a revolving door that they could walk back into anytime they pleased. But when you shut that door, when you locked it with no contact, they lost their way. And now they’re adrift, stuck with shallow supply, haunted by regret, and fully aware—though they’ll never say it out loud—that their downfall came from their own foolishness.
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