I have always maintained
that I am a strong person on the outside. Yes I show my emotions, but about as
superficially as I can. So, yes I am strong, or at least I was till I met you.
No, wait that isn’t correct, I was strong even after I met you. It was much
after that, that you broke me. I know what you are thinking right about now,
and no I am not being overly dramatic. I could never be more serious than I am
in this moment as I write this. It has taken a good fifteen months to come out,
so believe me I am serious. You didn’t break my heart, no you didn’t – it was
never yours to break. What you did was so much worse. It was my trust and some
measure of my strength that you destroyed – annihilated with your blatant
disregard for how I felt for what happened with us and with all your blithe
platitudes. You know what, I am angry.
Furious beyond belief. There is a storm raging inside me that refuses to calm
down. And you are the reason.
I have rarely had cause to
regret any relationship I have been in, rarely have regretted the decisions
taken in my relationships and i never regretted the way they ended. I regret
you, V, I do. From the core of my being I regret ever having made that move to
talk to you. I regret not staying home that night, I regret going to the
fundraiser, I regret setting eyes on you and I regret letting you sway me with
that kiss. More than ever I wish that kiss had not happened. Most of all, I
really regret not telling you what was going on with me. In my foolishness I
thought I could do that on my own, deal with me on my own, deal with everything
on my own. I thought I did not need your support. But, it was never about support
with us, was it. No, I wish I had told you only because I needed you to know,
that is all. Know what I was going through. You needed to be put through the
torture of knowing what I was going through, what I had gone through. It wasn’t
easy and you needed to fucking know. But even then you did not break me.
Because it had been after all my own choice to not say anything to you, to deal
on my own and deal I did. No this wasn’t what broke me.
It was your callous attitude
towards everything when I did tell you. That was the breaking point. It was
then that I realized that all those drinks dates visits to the Cottage were
payment for services rendered. And yes, there I said it – you made me feel
reduced to a bought for and cheap girl. And you know when it became clear? That
day I told you, between your prolonged lunch date and the movie you were going
to. I still remember it – Ship of Theseus. Any self respecting, no cross that
woman respecting man would have cancelled that movie, or at the least have the decency
to call at least once after. Not once did you ask how I was doing. Your first
lines of course were – you should have told me, why didn’t you tell me.
Followed by – I have to go for a movie, but we need to talk. I write this 15
months later, and we still need to talk, V. we met a few times, you uttered
platitudes made lame statements, hell you even expressed regret at not having
responded to that message. And you know what you just showed your own cheapass
standard by not talking. By not calling. And I can not guarantee that you will
be entirely safe around me should I ever set eyes upon you. for the first time
in my life you have made me insecure about myself, about the way men see me.
And it makes me so murderous towards you just thinking about this. That all it
really took was a few sweet words from a fucking bastard like you to bring me
to my knees. I can’t trust what any man says because of you. know that there is
at least one person who will never wish you well, in the all her lifetime. I pray that you get your just desserts, and
that you suffer at least as much I did if not more. This is what you have reduced me to, this
bitter, malicious person who is so consumed with hatred for you that she can’t
look at other men without seeing the injustice of you, without hating them for
how you were.
