You left me. Remember? YOU. LEFT. ME. Wayyyyyy back in October, after insisting that we tell no one about us, not let on to family, friends, kids, and most especially, NOT HERE, where women flirted with you, for fear that they may stop. So, when you left me, after six months, I had no one to go to, because no one knew. Had it not been for the fact that mipiace & simple dreamer sought me out, asked me what was wrong, dragged the whole sordid mess out of me, it’s entirely possible I would still be in the funk I was in for two solid months.
So now that I have moved on, managed (with the help of friends) to pull my heart together again despite your best efforts to shatter it, and have finally, FINALLY allowed myself to open up and like the opposite sex again, what do you do? WHAT ELSE? CONTINUE WITH THE MANIPULATIVE MIND FUCKING!!!
You never stopped loving me? You bastard! It would have been good to know that all those nights Linda was on the damn phone with me as I sobbed my fucking eyes out, feeling like a worthless ugly nobody who didn’t deserve your attention.
How DARE you come back after all this time and tell me you want me back? That you know you made a mistake and wished you never left? YOU DID. You called me horrible, horrible names, and meant every one of them when you said them. You chose every word for the maximum effect it would have on my heart and my self esteem, of which I had NONE when you were done with it.
You don’t want me! You just don’t want anybody else to have me! And the second you found out how happy I am, you come running in to tell me that … wait, lemme find it, because I want to get it right…
“When I broke up with you, it was because I couldn’t be the man I thought you needed.”
That is. The biggest. PILE OF HORSESHIT I HAVE EVER HEARD IN MY FUCKING LIFE. I would have walked through fire for your ass. All you had to do was SHOW UP.
You want me to look you in the eyes and tell you it’s over because you just don’t believe it coming from anyone else? Fine. You are done messing with my head. No more. I have had enough. We are done. It’s over. Goodbye, Davebear.