Laurel
I wrote an apology letter to Laurel a few days ago. I doubt that she will respond. I doubt even further that she even bothered to read it. I have spent an enormous amount of time and energy trying desperately not to think about her or all the places I fucked up while dating her. I couldn't even get myself to have sex with her, at this point my entire world was a shitty paper-thin illusion. I couldn't keep it going. I don't know what possessed me to try to begin with. But it was a horrible idea and I pay for it dearly. Despite all of the progress I had made previously, this entire "relationship" started because of a neurotic mood swing and ended on a bigger, more frightening one. I couldn't have been a worse anything. The mere memory of it and what I most of looked like makes me sick to my stomach. I still miss her. She was sharply negative about practically everything, her personality reminding me a lot of Olive Kitteridge in many ways. Barbed tongue, unforgiving and many more phrases fit. But not without reason, and every burst of negativity from her made me like her more, in a comfortable kind of way, a sort of familiarity. I wish I could have told her the truth and just talked to her.