Shit-Eating
Here's a copy of the letter I just wrote and sent to Mark:
Seriously? Seriously. I gave you everything I loved. I freakin' made a HUGE decision to be vulnerable with you and I gave you this gigantic piece of my heart. You chewed me up and spit me out and you expect me to act rationally? Grace was never fully out of my life, she never will be. She'll always mean a lot to me, just like Emily. I didn't know Cristina or Melody for long enough, didn't have enough emotionally invested in them to really care that much about cutting them out. And you can compare this to what you're doing?
Here's the difference between you and I: you're okay with what you did and what happened. I made the decision for you, I made it so you didn't have to choose. I made things easy for you. I made myself into someone you lost respect for. I allowed that to happen. I'm not sure whether or not to regret that yet.
This is all slapping me in the face. You're with Sean, the guy that you cheated on me with. Your friends are asking you about him as if nothing has changed as if he's just another guy. As if I was just another guy and what you did was okay. Like its high school, like we had some sort of high school relationship. What you're doing? You're cheapening everything we had.
Please, do me a favor and don't pretend to miss me. Actions speak louder than words and you could at least respect me enough to be honest with yourself and me. If you really missed me, you wouldn't be with Sean. You would never have been with Sean. If you really cared about me, you would never have allowed things with Sean to get to where they were. I have slept with people. I have made out with half the gay population in Fort Wayne. I have eaten my feelings and thrown up and been nauseous and I have smoked my lungs to shit and I have laid in bed for hours upon hours and i have watched so much tv in the simple effort to numb myself from the pain. Nothing works. I love you Mark. You wanted me to love you, you asked me to. Hell, you told me you did! And I told you that there were different kinds of love. And that maybe you didn't know what you were talking about. But you told me you did and so I allowed myself to love you. You asked me for a piece of my heart and I gave it to you with the full knowledge that I was leaving and that it might end at the end of the summer. But then you and I decided to try the long distance thing. And then you decided at some point that I wasn't good enough.
You want to know something ironic? Horribly, horribly ironic? I told everyone I met, EVERYONE about you. I told them that you were the kind of guy that every girl and gay man dreams of, the guy that's either gay or taken or both. And that you were both. And somehow, through some freak accident, I landed you. The guy that everyone wants. And then you cheat on me and leave me for that other guy because apparently we're still in high school. Isn't that hysterical? I find it hysterical.
I want you to read my livejournal because I want you to see what you've done, even what we had before you did it. These are my private thoughts posted. I've been keeping one for two years now. So you should be able to go back and look at everything if you want. Here's a link to it: http://smartmove.livejournal.com/
And you know what? Cheating, whether emotionally or physically is such a cop out! I mean, if you want out of a relationship, just end it. Don't insult the other person by cheating on them! I mean, seriously. You know what else? If it had been a moment of weakness thing, or a drunk thing or anything where you didn't care about the other guy, I would have gotten over it. We would still be together and probably happier than ever. There would be some trust issues, but we would have gotten through them.
The other night I had another guy in my bed. I woke up next to him and boy oh boy did my whole being just convulse. I wished with all my might that it was you and the fact that it wasn't made me sick. Sick at myself, sick at you and sick at the guy I'd slept with. You know, its funny, we didn't really sleep all that well together. We'd kick eachother and fight over the blankets and not cuddle except right before we actually slept. But I can't imagine wanting to wake up to anyone different.
The thing that bugs me the most is that you never really even gave us a chance, you never gave me a chance. You cheated. And then I went and I had to do something extreme so that we definitely wouldn't get back together. I had to go and make the decision for you, letting you off. When really it shouldn't have been your decision. This whole thing has been so unfair to me. You've been a huge coward and you haven't taken responsibility for much of anything. You've had what appears to be your knight in shining armor take care of you and you've been spoiled throughout this entire experience. And you've been a dick about the whole thing.
Stephanie told me about the movie because I asked her if she'd seen you when I was depressed. That's the only reason she told me, but at the same time, you don't get to have her and him at the same time. That's stepping so far over that line, that's territory you really don't want to be in.
And as far as the ring goes? You know where mine would be if I had it? On my desk, staring at me. Every day. I wouldn't be able to turn it around because my heart still fucking belongs to you for some odd reason that I can't fathom. So I would have taken it off. So please, don't bring that up as if you're in so much pain how incredibly long it took you to think of yourself as having an open heart. Again, that pretty much cheapens everything we had. Not that it wasn't already cheapened with the cheating, but you get that the crown on the heart meant loyalty, right? I assumed you knew what that meant. You do, don't you?
In conclusion (finally, I know) I would like to say that I will be as irrational as I like. I have already irrationally made the decision for you and I have already irrationally made myself into an ass, so why stop now? Not to mention, that I am hurt, wounded beyond comprehension by this entire thing. So if I decide to send you angry bumper stickers or do evil things to your car and/or house or slander you like hell here, that's all stuff that's allowed. Because I'm the broken one. I'm the one that will need fucking therapy to ever again hope to have a healthy relationship and I'm the one that knows what love is and still fucking loves you.
Seriously? Seriously. I gave you everything I loved. I freakin' made a HUGE decision to be vulnerable with you and I gave you this gigantic piece of my heart. You chewed me up and spit me out and you expect me to act rationally? Grace was never fully out of my life, she never will be. She'll always mean a lot to me, just like Emily. I didn't know Cristina or Melody for long enough, didn't have enough emotionally invested in them to really care that much about cutting them out. And you can compare this to what you're doing?
Here's the difference between you and I: you're okay with what you did and what happened. I made the decision for you, I made it so you didn't have to choose. I made things easy for you. I made myself into someone you lost respect for. I allowed that to happen. I'm not sure whether or not to regret that yet.
This is all slapping me in the face. You're with Sean, the guy that you cheated on me with. Your friends are asking you about him as if nothing has changed as if he's just another guy. As if I was just another guy and what you did was okay. Like its high school, like we had some sort of high school relationship. What you're doing? You're cheapening everything we had.
Please, do me a favor and don't pretend to miss me. Actions speak louder than words and you could at least respect me enough to be honest with yourself and me. If you really missed me, you wouldn't be with Sean. You would never have been with Sean. If you really cared about me, you would never have allowed things with Sean to get to where they were. I have slept with people. I have made out with half the gay population in Fort Wayne. I have eaten my feelings and thrown up and been nauseous and I have smoked my lungs to shit and I have laid in bed for hours upon hours and i have watched so much tv in the simple effort to numb myself from the pain. Nothing works. I love you Mark. You wanted me to love you, you asked me to. Hell, you told me you did! And I told you that there were different kinds of love. And that maybe you didn't know what you were talking about. But you told me you did and so I allowed myself to love you. You asked me for a piece of my heart and I gave it to you with the full knowledge that I was leaving and that it might end at the end of the summer. But then you and I decided to try the long distance thing. And then you decided at some point that I wasn't good enough.
You want to know something ironic? Horribly, horribly ironic? I told everyone I met, EVERYONE about you. I told them that you were the kind of guy that every girl and gay man dreams of, the guy that's either gay or taken or both. And that you were both. And somehow, through some freak accident, I landed you. The guy that everyone wants. And then you cheat on me and leave me for that other guy because apparently we're still in high school. Isn't that hysterical? I find it hysterical.
I want you to read my livejournal because I want you to see what you've done, even what we had before you did it. These are my private thoughts posted. I've been keeping one for two years now. So you should be able to go back and look at everything if you want. Here's a link to it: http://smartmove.livejournal.com/
And you know what? Cheating, whether emotionally or physically is such a cop out! I mean, if you want out of a relationship, just end it. Don't insult the other person by cheating on them! I mean, seriously. You know what else? If it had been a moment of weakness thing, or a drunk thing or anything where you didn't care about the other guy, I would have gotten over it. We would still be together and probably happier than ever. There would be some trust issues, but we would have gotten through them.
The other night I had another guy in my bed. I woke up next to him and boy oh boy did my whole being just convulse. I wished with all my might that it was you and the fact that it wasn't made me sick. Sick at myself, sick at you and sick at the guy I'd slept with. You know, its funny, we didn't really sleep all that well together. We'd kick eachother and fight over the blankets and not cuddle except right before we actually slept. But I can't imagine wanting to wake up to anyone different.
The thing that bugs me the most is that you never really even gave us a chance, you never gave me a chance. You cheated. And then I went and I had to do something extreme so that we definitely wouldn't get back together. I had to go and make the decision for you, letting you off. When really it shouldn't have been your decision. This whole thing has been so unfair to me. You've been a huge coward and you haven't taken responsibility for much of anything. You've had what appears to be your knight in shining armor take care of you and you've been spoiled throughout this entire experience. And you've been a dick about the whole thing.
Stephanie told me about the movie because I asked her if she'd seen you when I was depressed. That's the only reason she told me, but at the same time, you don't get to have her and him at the same time. That's stepping so far over that line, that's territory you really don't want to be in.
And as far as the ring goes? You know where mine would be if I had it? On my desk, staring at me. Every day. I wouldn't be able to turn it around because my heart still fucking belongs to you for some odd reason that I can't fathom. So I would have taken it off. So please, don't bring that up as if you're in so much pain how incredibly long it took you to think of yourself as having an open heart. Again, that pretty much cheapens everything we had. Not that it wasn't already cheapened with the cheating, but you get that the crown on the heart meant loyalty, right? I assumed you knew what that meant. You do, don't you?
In conclusion (finally, I know) I would like to say that I will be as irrational as I like. I have already irrationally made the decision for you and I have already irrationally made myself into an ass, so why stop now? Not to mention, that I am hurt, wounded beyond comprehension by this entire thing. So if I decide to send you angry bumper stickers or do evil things to your car and/or house or slander you like hell here, that's all stuff that's allowed. Because I'm the broken one. I'm the one that will need fucking therapy to ever again hope to have a healthy relationship and I'm the one that knows what love is and still fucking loves you.