I don’t really know what I should or even want to say to you, but I can’t sleep because of you. So here goes nothing/everything. Dating you was a mistake. I’m honestly not even sure if I should associate myself with you at all. You’re sexist, racist, you [still] smoke, you post way too much shit on Facebook, you’re a conservative, and a coward. I shouldn’t have even forgiven you, but it happened. You have no right to be forgiven. You blamed me for not trusting you. And I fucking took that blame. It was not my fault. It was your fault and you need to own up to that. You made me feel like shit; if I didn’t hear from you, I worried you were fucking some other girl. Or flirting with some other girl. Or something. Every time you introduced me to your female friends, I always felt like I needed to assert my dominance and show them that we were together. I should never have to do that, and before you I never had done that.
On my birthday, I was told that you were planning on attending a party the next day where “everyone gets drunk and hooks up”. And I knew you. So I suggested we try an open relationship so that you’d be allowed to hook up with someone else as I hadn’t been invited to that party. You insisted that it meant that I wanted to see other people. Well in all honesty, I kind of did. However, I only wanted sex with other people.
The only time I ever saw you wash your hands was after sticking them in my vagina. And you almost refused to do anything until after you’d done that. You went down on me once. And that was only because I promised I would blow you right after (it also wasn’t very good, either.) I wanted sex that lasted longer than a minute and I wanted a penis that was bigger than below average. Or at least a penis was interested in more than getting itself off.
Finally, when I told you that I didn’t trust you, you blamed me. And said it wasn’t something that you “had time for”. So you told me that we would take a break. I was okay with that, until I realized that that’s not what you meant. You meant that you would “figure out your life” and make sure that it didn’t include me. You took the coward’s way out and when discussing this with others that know you, it isn’t the first time you’ve used that line.
We’ve been back in contact for three days. And we have already sent 209 text messages to each other. Do you talk to your other friends that much? If not, what makes me so special? I don’t understand, why do you talk to me so fucking much? It freaks me out because I want to talk to you, but I don’t want to develop feelings for you again because you do NOT deserve it.
When you broke up with me, I wanted to badly to cut because of it. But I refused to give you the satisfaction of me being that destroyed over you. Even though you don’t even know that I’ve ever self harmed. We were together for three months, which I realize is barely anything, but I was destroyed. It was the first time that I had ever actually experienced heartbreak.
A few weeks ago, I saw you and her together. She had the same sweater I used to wear. And I took satisfaction in that. But I know that it really had nothing to do with me. You had forgotten me. And now that you’re trying to confide in me about her, I just can’t. Everything you say, I just want to tell you that you’re a shithead and you deserved it. But. I don’t really believe that.
I spent probably fifteen minutes on your Facebook profile, looking through some of the things that you posted since we broke up. Not one mention of me, not upset or even disappointed that we’re not even friends anymore. I just want to be fucking loved. I want someone to fucking fall in love with me because I’m fucking fantastic and I know it. But no one else does. I want more than a “you’re an awesome chick”. I want a “you’re an awesome chick and I fucking love you and I don’t know what I would do without you”.
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