He said.

This is probably the last time I’ll ever write about my ex, but I was just thinking about some things earlier today. He was always so excited to be around me. He would walk around showing his friends pictures of me or showing them videos of me singing; just anything to show off his girlfriend. He was proud to be with me. And I loved that. He was never ashamed of me. He said he’d ALWAYS love me no matter what happened.
Hmm… oh yeah? Well I distinctly remember that after getting my first tattoo, he flipped a shit and started yelling at me about how my body is a temple, blah blah blah, I didn’t understand how much hell he was gonna get from his family and friends for me having a tattoo, blah blah blah. An inch and a half long tattoo on my inner wrist was the equivalent of murder to him. Then after that, everything went downhill. Because I got. one. tattoo.
9 tattoos and 9 piercings later, his parents still adore me and talk to me when they get a chance. His friends still love me. He doesn’t even act like I exist. Haha, I should be really sad about it. I am sometimes. He was my best friend for 5 years. But it’s completely his loss. Even more so because some of his friends think he’s a huge dick for being such a jerk to me. So if he loses friends for being a jerk, good.
Another thing I was thinking about was our cute little fights. You know what I’m talking about. Those “I love you,” “I love you more” fights that went on forever. I think I won.

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