You knew fully well that he had a long term girlfriend when you added him on Facebook. The first thing you saw was a profile picture, which included me. Then, you had to have seen the relationship status, and attached to it was our anniversary. We were coming up on three years. You went through his photos, and carefully liked all of the ones I wasn’t in. Any statuses he posted, you liked, as long as I wasn’t involved. You saw the ones I was tagged in, though. You saw the photos he shared with my name attached to them. You saw me, every single day you went to talk to him. Still, you pursued him.

I saw you, too. For a few seconds at first I was insecure. I mentioned you, once. He quickly reassured me that you were nothing to him. He looked me in the eyes, and told me he would never do that to me. Maybe at that point you weren’t talking, or maybe you were. I don’t know, nor do I care to know. I decided to trust him, though. As time went on, he began to change. His phone was hidden away most of the time. He was spending more time with his “friends.” He was becoming more and more suspicious, but I wanted to believe he wouldn’t do that to me, or to us.

It’s safe to say I was in denial. I refused to believe the person I had been with for three years, the person who I loved, and the person I gave my heart to, would ever crush me like that, or betray me in such a way. I was convinced the rumors that flew around were simply rumors, and the voice in my head was lying. Truth was, I was lying to myself.

Until the day I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I had just started my second semester of my freshman year in college when I received the cold, hard information that I could not deny. The images of you and him are burned into my brain forever. I sat motionless, staring at the photos behind the screen of my phone. I wanted to scream, or cry, or even be angry, but I was empty.

Neither of you knew I had friends at that party. When she sent me those photos of you kissing him in your barely-there shorts, and v-neck crop top, I hated you. I hated him. I texted him that night, but you already knew that. He told me he was about to go to bed. Did you tell him to say that, or was it his idea? Which one of you came up with that lie? More photos came in throughout the night, some more graphic than I could have imagined. You probably blamed slipping your top off on those three mixed drinks you had, right? You claimed you were a light weight, and that’s why you were groping my boyfriend, right?

I shut off my phone at 2:18 AM, and fought the urge to throw it. I was starting to thaw out; emotions started to roll in. At first it was anger. Anger at you, at him, but mostly at myself. I should have known better; I did know better. I began to hate myself. I wondered what I did wrong, and why I wasn’t enough. After a few hours, I was convinced it was my fault. I went off to college, of course he would become lonely. I knew you were showing interest in him, I should have done more to make him happy while I was away. If I did, he wouldn’t have found comfort in you.

That was one of the longest nights of my life.

I called him later that week. February 12th, to be exact. Two days before Valentine’s Day. I told him we were over, and it broke my heart. I had to lie to him about why we were over, because I didn’t want him to be upset. Ridiculous, right? At the time, though, it made since. He didn’t know about the photos on my phone, or my knowledge of what you two did. It took about a week for me to tell him the truth.

I spent weeks crying and second guessing my decision. I spent more hours believing I wasn’t enough; I wasn’t pretty enough, or caring enough. Maybe I pushed him into your arms. Then one day, I determined it wasn’t my fault at all. I gave him more than enough. I gave him my heart, and he decided to use it. The two of you decided to cheat. The two of you decided to lie. The two of you didn’t even respect me enough to keep your little affair private. And for that, I thank you.

Because of you, I was able to see his truest colors. If you hadn’t done what you did, I would have spent more time being lied to and hurt by the person who claimed to love me. Due to your actions, I was able to move on and become a better person and live a happier life, though it was not without struggle. Thank you for having no respect for my relationship, or yourself. You showed me that my relationship was toxic, and the two of you together made my decision to leave for me.

At this point, I can say I forgive you. Both of you. And I am thankful for what you did. Understand one thing, though: it will never be excused. What you did was disgraceful and disgusting. You were the other woman, and you’re the one who has to be haunted by that.