Dear John

 

You always did love a game—a well-played deception, a carefully orchestrated illusion. But even the cleverest magicians slip when their tricks become routine. And you, John? You got reckless.

The stage is set, and I’ve played my final move.

Your camera now sits where we first met, its shutter frozen in time—no more stolen glances, no more perfect frames of the lies you whispered in dim lighting.
Your laptop lies at the place where you once declared your love—a love that shattered like glass, reflecting nothing but empty promises. Its screen now dark, mirroring the void left behind.
Your clothes, your belongings, every carefully curated piece of your facade? They’re with Sandra. A fitting destination, don’t you think? A handoff from one illusion to the next.

You wanted to play? Well, this is the grand finale. And John—if you’re looking for me at the finish line, don’t bother. I’ve already turned the page.

Some endings come with tears. Others with fire.

This one? It comes with silence.

Goodbye, John.

What do you think—iconic revenge or just a tad too far? 

Let’s hear it—what’s the most satisfying act of revenge you’ve ever witnessed?

Drop an email to dpisafox@gmail.com