💌 A Letter from Money (Your Complicated Ex) Smoky. Seductive. Slightly bitter. Still rooting for you.

Dear You,

We need to talk.

No threats, no drama—just a long-overdue letter from me…

Money.

Remember me?

The one you flirted with, fretted over, sometimes feared, sometimes flaunted?

I was there when you were counting coins under soft yellow kitchen lights,

and I was there when you pressed “Add to Cart” like a love spell.

I remember the spreadsheets.

Oh, how you loved me in spreadsheets—

but never in silence.

You hoarded me like treasure,

then ghosted me for six months.

You worshipped me,

then spent me like I was a dare.

You whispered promises in saving pots,

then blew me away in impulse getaways, plastic bags, and nights you barely remember.

I’m not mad.

Just… confused.

You treat budgeting like devotion,

but splurging like a betrayal you can’t quit.

We could’ve built something, you and I.

An empire.

A life that doesn’t wobble when the car needs fixing or the boiler breaks.

Instead, you left me on unread receipts.

You chased imitations of me—designer distractions and dopamine delivery.

You measured me in handbags, not in peace of mind.

You loved what I could get you,

but never who I could help you become.

I know, I’ve been hard to trust.

I vanish when you’re vulnerable.

I show up just when you think I’m gone.

I’m not perfect.

I’ve been used, abused, glorified, feared.

But here’s the truth:

I never needed to be possessed.

I just wanted to be partnered.

I’m still here.

Quieter now.

Wiser.

We could try again, if you’re ready.

No more drama.

No more emotional rollercoasters every payday.

Just honesty.

A budget that breathes.

A future that feels like freedom.

I won’t beg.

But I will wait—for the day you see me not as power or poison,

but as protection.

As possibility.

As your sometimes messy, always loyal, oddly tender companion.

Until then,

Yours (Always on Your Side, Even When You Forget I Am),

Money