How could you.

I actually considered it. I entertained the idea of trying to be friends. But I was wise enough to think it over. The truth is, you don't have the stamina or persistance to be my friend. Once again, I conclude you want it for selfish reasons. You didn't give a rats ass about how your cute little email would make me feel, cause if you did, you would never have sent it. "Sorry, don't read it!" as the title? How about not sending it in the first place, in stead of trying to take cover behind a "warning" like that, you fucking coward?!

You know what makes me really angry, what really tipped the scales? You're still trying to manipulate me. Trying to appeal to a part of me that you know has given you the benefit of the doubt before. You did this now, now that YOU'RE in pain. I've been in pain for close to three months, but you've been just fine till now, so why the fuck bother to try and soften the blow for me, when you had all the cunt in the world to keep you entertained? But now that poor little you start to feel the bad stuff, BAM: shatter my progress.

And you know what? I will never trust you not to manipulate me. How can I be friends with someone who I know is constantly manuevering me around for their own benefit? The entire past year of our relationship, when you were doing that "lying to yourself" business, did you even realize what you were doing to me? You took every fucking single insecurity YOU had about the relationship, and you pushed it onto me. You almost had me believing many of those things, when in fact you were the one being unable to express feeling them. So I have spent a year taking the hits on that account, when in fact I was the one who wanted to be there, who wanted to take the gamble. I was the one who loved honestly, and got broken down for my effort. All those things you wanted to change about me were bullshit, and I really fucking hope you realize that. You can't expect me to talk openly and knowingly about feeling something that, in fact, I don't. Something you've pushed onto me, cause you can't face it yourself.

When I said yes to giving it another chance last summer, I told you I didn't want a repeat performance. That if we did this, if you went into it, you did so to be with ME. Not with whatever other bitch you could scrounch up. I told you what I expected from a relationship, and you agreed. If you had shown any doubt that day, about wanting to be with me 100%, I would never have gone back to you. I even told you that I wouldn't do it if you'd rather be with others. I told you to tell me if you started having those inclinations. You never did. Not once, and I gave you plenty chances when you came home smelling like strange.

I can never, ever, forgive you for not owning up to it when you had the chance. Chances. They were many. For looking me in the eye, lying, and making me feel bad for even suspecting it. For letting you touch me after even suspecting it, and now, knowing how many times I've probably been exposed to who knows what disease. I'm disgusted by that thought.

Us being friends, now? I would laugh if I wasn't crying my eyes out. You know I would give my everything, like I have done from day one, for you. But you wouldn't for me. You would be there till it was inconvenient or till you felt stretched thin. I would, once again, be put second. When you were my number 1 at all times. And I can't bear the thought of that.

So yes. You are entirely right, that my hatred is a way for me to handle that I do in fact still love you, that I miss you like hell, and that my life has lost significant value from not having you around anymore. A way to remind myself that that hug from you I'm craving more than my next breath, might be the best thing in the world, but will definately come with costs my heart can't pay. You've never truly had room for me, in you, when it came down to it. And you just agreed to that, way too easily. I hope that means you've gotten to know yourself better, for your sake.