imwithjonas's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Letters Dear Josh,I blame myself. I always blame myself. I thought you'd like to know that. I thought you'd want to know that you're not at fault. You would hate to think that you're the bad guy. You're not. You told me all along that you were damaged goods. You never once let me think that you were worth even a fraction of the emotion I connected with you. You were always upfront about the fact that you weren't the kind of guy that deserved to be treated well. It's my fault that I didn't believe you. It's my fault that I thought you had hidden depth, that there was a reason to care. It's my fault that I let myself love you, just a little. I didn't love you enough to move mountains or leave school to have your babies or anything ridiculous like that. I loved you enough to hope just a little that you might love me back. You didn't have to, and I didn't mind if you didn't, but I could hope a little. You didn't do anything to hurt me. You couldn't have known that I let myself get attached, and I was the one that hurt you after all. I can't blame you. No one could. No one does. They all feel bad for me, but in a kind of "he told you so" way. And you did. You told me all along. I owe you the apology. All you ever did for me was make me realize that I could matter. Someone could care about me. Someone could notice me. I really never thought any of those things before. I'm not saying that because I want attention. I'm not saying that to demand that people pity me. It's just the truth. I used to not say it at all. Maybe I should go back to that. The point is, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I wasted your time. I'm sorry that I hurt you after I promised so many times that I wouldn't. I'm sorry that I turned out to be like all the other women that hurt you. You're right. I'm no different from them. With love, Self:No gushy personal letters today. This is strictly business. What the hell do you think you're doing? Why do you feel it necessary to constantly undermine yourself? What are you thinking right now? Well, I suppose it's pretty obvious that you're thinking all that bullshit above this. At least that's part of what you're thinking. That's the part that you want everyone else to see. That's the part that you always act on. You always listen to the quiet, meek, rational, utterly fucking stupid part. So consider this a letter from your angry self. Consider this the backlash against that whining shit you just wrote. Now shut the hell up and listen. You are right about one thing. You did fuck up in liking him so much. It was not (and still is not, so stop trying) your responsibility to make up for all the women that have fucked him over. Given that you could never do that in an entire lifetime, you shouldn't have even tried. You should possibly have known better than to even try liking a man who was so close to hating women. That may have been a mistake, but you couldn't have known. No one can blame you, so stop damn blaming yourself. Do you remember all the times you had to fight to make him talk to you? Do you remember the two weeks between the first weekend you spent with him and the next time he fucked you? He never talked in those intercessions. You had to do it. You had to call and call and call until he finally had to answer. He made excuses. He was busy. There was a holiday. When could he see you (read: fuck you) again? You shouldn't have had to force him. He was using you for sex. You didn't want to believe it. Hell, he didn't want to believe it, but read that last paragraph over again. Does that sound like someone who wants more than sex from you? Sure he loved talking to you once. Until you let him have what he wanted. After that, you talked less. You talked less and less frequently and it was more and more strained. Unless you talked about sex or when you would be coming up to have sex with him. In the end, he wouldn't even let you sleep with him. He. wouldn't. let. you. sleep. with. him. He would call you in the middle of the night, beg you to drive an hour and a half to fuck him, then send you on your way. DOES THAT SOUND LIKE SOMEONE WHO WANTS MORE THAN SEX FROM YOU? Don't whine. Don't snivel. Don't beg for attention. It just makes people think that he might have been justified. Just give it up. Just realize that what was can never be again and can never be erased. Stop crying at night. I know it hurts, but just try to be angry instead. Just be pissed off that he was fucking someone new (or maybe not so new?) a week after you. Be pissed about the two other girls that were sucking his dick (and supposedly not nearly as well as you, so why the fuck did he even do it?). Just scream at him in your head until it fades away and you can sleep. People have always said that you shouldn't go to bed angry, but you shouldn't cry yourself to sleep either. Between the two, I'd take the anger. Listen to me for once. And I doubt you can really control the dreams, but try as hard as you can. Try with everything you have just to wake up. Don't put yourself through that over and over again. You can't change it in life. Changing it in dreams won't do anyone any good. It never turns out better anyway. I guess that's it. I'm not really mad at you, just frustrated. I'm so frustrated that all this is going on up in your head and all that ever comes out is that, "I'm fine, I just wish I hadn't hurt him," crap. Stop that. Just stop. Love, 11:42 a.m. - March 29, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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