Love, your bitter estranged
10:09 p.m.

There's so much I could say to you, so many things I could do. What, did you think I wouldn't find out that I was a mistake? I trusted in you, damnit. I felt safe when I was with you. I'm glad that I didn't kiss you, despite how much I wanted to. Would that have been a mistake too? Wold you have seen more after that, out of guilt? Or would you do the same thing? You KNEW that you didn't want to see me anymore, and so I ask you to hang out, and you blow it off. I thought that maybe I was misinterpreting things. So many times I gave you an opportunity to 'fess up, without realizing it. You never took them. You just kept hoping I wouldn't realize it, is that how it was? If not, how was it? Why don't you tell me? Oh, no, wait, I'm sorry, that would involve taking the initiative. That would involve taking a risk. How about the risk I took? You've rejected me before; that's no secret. I was afraid you'd do it again, but I took the risk, because I built up trust in you. You intiated two consecutive weekends. If you did this intentionally... damn you. I'm not going to say I wish ill will upon you, because I don't. I like to think that I could, though. I'm sorry, am I too honest? That's right, that's a concept you don't seem to understand. Deception? Is that familiar? Or maybe straight-up impulsiveness. My feelings were pure. I must've been the only one.

I loathe you.

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