FUCK YOU!
When I first started seeing you I thought, hoped, that you would be different. You seemed nice, you seemed like you may have actually cared about another human being’s feelings. I was wrong, you were like all of the other women I’ve dated. Use me until I’m no longer of any use, or when I’m not around it doesn’t matter what you do.
So I tried to talk with you before I went on vacation, you had been busy and not responding to my emails. It was understandable, you had just finished training with your job. I also understood that you had a friend over when I finally was able to speak with you, and since I trusted you I wished you well and said I’d speak with you when I got back. Thank god you didn’t tell me before I went on vacation.
So I talk with you at midnight, thanksgiving. The last neutral holiday for me.
I suppose that you forgot, like everything else I shared about myself it wasn’t about you so it wasn’t important, that every gf I’ve had has broken up with me on holidays. Christmas Eve and Day, twice on my Birthday, Valintines Day and now thanksgiving. But naturally you had to say the most hurtful thing you could, and then sound suprised when I don’t sound happy for you. Like all of them, you never say that there is someone else you’d like to start seeing, nobody has said that they don’t care about me. Despite what they do to me they’ve all still cared about me. No, you inform me in you’re proud little voice that the ex-cocain dealer at work, the scary one that you’ve been going out with him. That you slept with him on the first date. Why? "Because we were at his parents house, he still lives at home, and I didn’t want to ‘rock the boat’, I didn’t want to be an inconvience.
And you wondered why I didn’t say anything right away, why I sounded hurt.
I shouldn’t have been suprised, its not like you ever cared at all for me. It was pretty obvious that I was nothing but your emotional crutch to be used when available and then when I wasn’t around replaced by whatever wandered by and gave you the time of day.
I remember when I first met you. You were reading a book by my favorite author. I don’t date people I don’t know. Its a rule I have, to date someone I first want to know them to see if I would be friends with them. I thought you cared, or at least enough that you’d think of my feelings periodically.
I should have known better, I should have listened to my friends attempts to break up with you.
3 years, we had been together 3 years. Look back, I don’t think you ever cared for me. I remember when we first got together. You played me off another guy who was also interested in you. You seduced me then left me hanging for 2 weeks as you decided which one you liked the best. For some reason I forgave you for that.
I told myself that it was because of my bad timing, I should have mentioned something earlier. Before the other guy. But looking back it wouldn’t have mattered it probably would have been worse. What took me so long? I was still getting to know you, to see if you would be someone who would respect me. I already had my answer but I didn’t know it. The only thing I wanted was one thing. I wanted someone to love. But no, you let your mother talk you out of it, you informed me that your mother didn’t believe I that loved you.
We were sophomores in College, I figured that we would be far beyond looking to mommy and daddy to tell us what to do or think. You didn’t even bother to figure out why I loved you. At that time I felt safe around you, you were kind, sensitive and seemed to care about me.
I wanted to be there for you, to help you with your problems. Before I knew it, I was your emotional crutch. The only times I saw you was when you had a bad day, felt insecure or needed someone to cry on. Did you ever do the same thing for me? The few times I called to ask if I could see you, the days when everything had been going wrong. The times I was about ready to drop out of college, believing that I was worthless, wasting my parent’s time, hope and money where were you? You were busy. It was either time for Buffy, you wanted to watch a movie with friends or you had homework that you had put off for a week and were frantically trying to finish the night before it was due.
Each time, I came out of it by myself. Each time I drank until the pain was bearable enough, until I got angry enough that I refused to give up and let them win. Even when the fucking dean told me that it would be in the best interests of our school that I leave you weren’t fucking there for me.
I was there when you had a problem that was too hard to do, or any of the dozens of times some small problem set you off.
I tried to break up with you. Each time you managed to talk me out of it. You made me feel guilty, using your family and your own problems to make me want to protect you. My friends tried to break us up, I should have listened.
You wondered why after 2 years I stopped wanting to be around for you. The only salvation I had in our relationship was the sex. For those times I could look down on that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain in your face and think that at least for this moment you wanted me for something other than your own emotional needs and that you cared about me.
I’m glad you enjoyed the sex. But I would think that it would have occured to you that something was wrong one partner never seemed to enjoy it. But why would that matter? I would think that you’d notice something was wrong that I never seemed to enjoy myself, that I always had to force myself to orgasm. Why do you think that I didn’t like having you spend the night. After the sex I realized that each time that I was simply being used for something else. Why didn’t you understand there was a reason why I was drunk almost every time we had sex. The drinking made it hurt less! It made the feelings of being used and uncared for bearable.
God I’m a coward. All I wanted was a woman who could match my strengths, someone who wouldn’t back down or let me back down, and at the same time understand that no matter how strong the barriers you have up against the world the must come down at times. I just wanted to hear one thing from you. One simple thing. I knew you were using me, but I kept telling myself at least its better than being alone. But I was alone, only I didn’t want to admit it.
Not I love you, you used that more than enough to keep me where you wanted me. Hell I’ve heard that far to often. Even the girl I truely did love, the one I was going to sacrafice my life for and hurt me even worse than you did. I simply wanted someone who would be with me and tell me that in my worst moments everything would be ok since you were around.
You pressured me into everything. I never wanted to have sex with you, you just never let up until i agreed!
When we spoke last you were were amaized that I didn’t tell you that I wanted to hear that, more than anything from you. You stupid bitch, words don’t mean anything if you have to tell the other person what to say. The simple truth of the matter is that you didn’t care about me. But every time I held you in my arms one thing came to my mind, “Maybe she does.”
Then we graduated, we parted as friends. I was in a new state with no friends and lonely. I invited you down. Things were great while you were here. You were happy, you were happy being around me and I realized that maybe there was a chance. I remember cleary you hugging me as you left, whispering ‘I love you’ into my ear as you left. Then I realized that maybe there was a chance.
I gradually worked up my courage and asked if you would like to visit me again. You agreed, and over the weeks we started to work things out. And then thanksgiving happened.
Thank god it happened before I started to care about you any more. Or maybe it just hurts less each time.
Sometimes things must be said, no to anyone in particular but simply must be said so they hurt less.
j/k