I’m writing this letter to you because I never want to see you again. It’s not me, it’s you.
We’re just incompatible on every level. You see, I never believed you had my best interests at heart. You’d give me vaginal dryness and would be uncomfortable to insert. I let you in more than once, and once you were in, you hurt me. In fact, you hurt me more than once. And I still gave you the benefit of the doubt.
Maybe this was because I had issues with commitment. I told you the ins and outs of my last relationship, with Pads. And you seemed to understand I needed more freedom. So yes, you let me go swimming, and I could wear anything I wanted.
But you still tacked on a reminder that you were waiting in the wings. Your pesky string still hung out of me. A true albatross around my neck. One time you mortified me - you poked out of my underwear when I was trying on clothes in front of a friend in a changing room, and that memory still haunts me well into adulthood.
One time, you let me down. You leaked, and that was unforgivable. It was at the exact moment I felt warm menstrual blood leak onto my clothing that I knew this was the end of you and me. You ruined my favourite pants and you were totally unapologetic. I don’t want that kind of negative energy in my life.