My boyfriend, Matt, and I have been together for two years and have been living together for eight months. We met through mutual friends, and despite our differences, we fell into an easy rhythm. He was calm where I was fiery, laid-back where I was structured. We complemented each other.

Or so I thought.

One Saturday morning, I was doing a deep clean of our apartment—something I had learned to accept as mostly my responsibility since Matt had an uncanny ability to overlook messes. While reorganizing one of the kitchen cabinets, I found a folded piece of paper tucked all the way in the back, wedged between the wood and the wall.

Curious, I unfolded it and read:

Dear Matt’s Future Girlfriend,

I know it’s you reading this because he’d never clean back here.

I’m putting this here because I’m leaving him soon and want to warn you about him:

• He will not clean
• He will not listen
• He will make everything feel like it’s your fault

It’s not your fault, he’s just an incompetent man. I’m leaving him, I suggest you do the same.

Best wishes,
Teresa

I stared at the note for a long time. My stomach twisted with unease. This was clearly written before Matt and I had even met, but I couldn’t ignore how much it resonated with my current frustrations. He never cleaned unless I specifically asked. He was dismissive during arguments, making me feel like I was overreacting. And there had been too many times I had walked away from a discussion wondering if I really was the problem.

I walked into the living room, where Matt was sitting on the couch, half-watching TV while scrolling on his phone. Without a word, I handed him the note.

He read it, his expression shifting from confusion to discomfort. “Where did you find this?”

“In the kitchen cabinet. Hidden.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow. I had no idea she did this.”

“So,” I pressed, “what do you think about it?”

He sighed. “Look, Teresa and I had a messy breakup. She always said I didn’t do enough, but I never felt like she appreciated what I did do. And yeah, I’m not the best at cleaning, but is that really worth breaking up over?”

I hesitated. That wasn’t the real issue. The note wasn’t just about chores. It was about how he made her feel.

“Did she ever tell you how she felt? About these things?” I asked.

Matt groaned. “All the time. And every time I tried to explain myself, she got even angrier. It felt like nothing I did was ever good enough.”

Something about his response didn’t sit right with me. He wasn’t reflecting, just justifying. And if Teresa felt this way and I was starting to feel the same, maybe it wasn’t a coincidence.

A thought nagged at me for the rest of the day. By evening, I made a decision: I was going to reach out to Teresa.

I found her on social media easily enough and sent a simple message.

Hey, this is kind of weird, but I’m Matt’s current girlfriend. I found a note you left in his apartment. Can we talk?

She replied within minutes.

Oh, wow. You actually found it? Sure, let’s talk.

We met at a nearby coffee shop the next day. She was warm, confident, and had a quiet strength about her that made me instantly comfortable. I wasted no time.

“The note you left… it hit home. I feel like I’m going through the same things.”

Teresa gave a knowing nod. “I figured someone would, eventually. Matt’s not a bad guy. But he has a way of making you doubt yourself. It took me too long to realize that.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I thought I was just being too sensitive.”

“You’re not,” she said firmly. “If you’re feeling like this, you have two choices: accept it and hope it gets better, or leave before you waste more time.”

I left the café deep in thought. I didn’t want to give up on Matt, but I also didn’t want to keep second-guessing myself.

That night, I sat down with Matt and laid it all out. “I need to know that if something upsets me, you’re willing to listen and not just defend yourself. I don’t want to feel like I have to convince you that my feelings matter.”

He looked surprised. Then thoughtful. “I don’t want you to feel that way either. I just… I guess I never thought about it like that.”

That was the first time I saw real self-awareness in him.

Over the next few months, things changed. Not overnight, but gradually. He started taking initiative with cleaning. More importantly, he made an effort to listen when I expressed frustration instead of shutting down or deflecting. I made sure to acknowledge his efforts, and our relationship felt lighter, more equal.

One day, he surprised me by deep cleaning the apartment while I was out. When I got home, he grinned and said, “Check the cabinets. No hidden notes this time.”

I laughed, and for the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful.

Would things be perfect? No. But for the first time, I believed they could be better.

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