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NotAnAlias · 02-10-2006, 02:27 PM

You're the smartest person I know; you write essays that are twice as long as mine in exams, to do that you have to remember something. So why is it that whenever I talk about stuff we've done you say you don't remember?

You say you're cold and callous and a bitch and you can't get close to anyone, that you don't feel butterflies you your stomach or that x-factor about me. But we have a connection like nothing else, you told me you love me on a handful of occasions, and I know you meant it. You say that you're an actor and you know how to play and manipulate people, but the last 6 months (2 in long distance) haven't been a fucking act. If that was an act, then forget law - head to Hollywood, because there isn't a professional actor in the world who could pull that off.

Yes, we're great friends, why can't you see that we're also a great couple?

You're scared of intensity, you think you can't care for anyone, you think that you'll never have a long term relationship. Why? I don't know how you even judge most of that.

I think you just don't want to be in a position where you can't make yourself believe that you're in control and that you're an isolated island, just so you can't get hurt.

And if you like control, why the fuck did you A) drink and B) let two sleazy fucking arsehole guys, one of which is a fucking old man, take advantage of you? I warned you about drinking and losing the control when you flirt and carry on. I warned you about that fucking cocksmack tristan would come back and try to get in your pants again. I warned you that if you were drunk when he did something awful might happen. I warned you and I was fucking right.

You're not an experienced drinker; you said you'd never drink again after the new years before we met, I’d never seen you drunk.

You used to call me sexy, and I believed you. But now I'm finding it hard to believe that you could find me physically attractive at all.

You felt betrayed and questioned me when I fucked up and let lust and sex get in front of everything great we have. You called me a typical male. I know, I was, but I caught it, I fixed it, I made the changes for you.

You criticised me for being a typical male, then you feel enough attraction to kiss other WORSE chauvinist fucking arsehole, being drunk and peer pressure is no excuse, but you know that already.

But having said that, I don't care. I don't care that you kissed him the dickhead australian. It's not your fucking fault that you fell asleep on rob's bed. It's not your fucking fault that he decided it was cool for a 31 year old to sleep in the same bed as a 19 year old girl with a boyfriend. It's not your fucking fault that in the morning he decided it was cool to kiss you "heavily".

I don't understand how you could keep hanging around with him, and to be honest, that kind of fucking hurts. But I don't care. I know what we have is something so much better than those stupid arseholes up there in shitholetown, Vermont, ALL THE FUCKING WAY IN AMERICA will ever have. We have something they'll never understand.

I forgive you. As hard as it is to believe I can sweep it all under the mat, I just did. I forgive you. It doesn't mean anything. It wasn't something serious. Fuck, it could have been so much worse, and for a minute on the phone when you told me, I thought it was. I forgive you. But you have to forgive yourself.

Why can't you believe that someone can care for you so much that they can miss you more than they miss oxygen in a vacuum? I know you don't care much about yourself, but that's all the more reason for me to care about you. I know you think that you destroy everyone who gets close to you, that you can't attach for the long term, but you have to get over it. You say you're a used piece of tape because you've apparently loved too many people, but you haven't had that many relationships, and it's no different to anyone else in the world, and they still continue on. Just after you left you said you could see us lasting for quite some time, but now it's all on the knife's edge. You acknowledge that I am pretty much the perfect guy for you, and you're my perfect girl, isn't that reason enough to try and work together to get over the "tape with no stick" issue? I am here, your perfect guy, someone who you've clicked with on a level you've never felt before, and I’m saying we can work this out. We can continue to be happy. We can continue to be perfect for each other. We just have to work together and try.

I'm sorry I smothered you when you were here; I wanted to give you as much space as you wanted, but you never demanded any - you didn't want to go out with friends, you wanted to be with me, and so I gave you what you wanted. I'm sorry I smothered you when you were gone, with a blanketing of sad emails that reminded you of real life, not the plastic and artificial bullshit life you've been leading for the last 3 months. I'm sorry I was and am so emotionally fucked up. I'm sorry that I am the most needy and fragile person you've ever known.

I'm sorry, but I still love you.

And I know, if this doesn't work out, I'll move on eventually, but I will still love you until the day I die.

02-10-2006, 02:27 PM	#34 (permalink)
NotAnAlias Tilted Location: Auckland, New Zealand	You're the smartest person I know; you write essays that are twice as long as mine in exams, to do that you have to remember something. So why is it that whenever I talk about stuff we've done you say you don't remember? You say you're cold and callous and a bitch and you can't get close to anyone, that you don't feel butterflies you your stomach or that x-factor about me. But we have a connection like nothing else, you told me you love me on a handful of occasions, and I know you meant it. You say that you're an actor and you know how to play and manipulate people, but the last 6 months (2 in long distance) haven't been a fucking act. If that was an act, then forget law - head to Hollywood, because there isn't a professional actor in the world who could pull that off. Yes, we're great friends, why can't you see that we're also a great couple? You're scared of intensity, you think you can't care for anyone, you think that you'll never have a long term relationship. Why? I don't know how you even judge most of that. I think you just don't want to be in a position where you can't make yourself believe that you're in control and that you're an isolated island, just so you can't get hurt. And if you like control, why the fuck did you A) drink and B) let two sleazy fucking arsehole guys, one of which is a fucking old man, take advantage of you? I warned you about drinking and losing the control when you flirt and carry on. I warned you about that fucking cocksmack tristan would come back and try to get in your pants again. I warned you that if you were drunk when he did something awful might happen. I warned you and I was fucking right. You're not an experienced drinker; you said you'd never drink again after the new years before we met, I’d never seen you drunk. You used to call me sexy, and I believed you. But now I'm finding it hard to believe that you could find me physically attractive at all. You felt betrayed and questioned me when I fucked up and let lust and sex get in front of everything great we have. You called me a typical male. I know, I was, but I caught it, I fixed it, I made the changes for you. You criticised me for being a typical male, then you feel enough attraction to kiss other WORSE chauvinist fucking arsehole, being drunk and peer pressure is no excuse, but you know that already. But having said that, I don't care. I don't care that you kissed him the dickhead australian. It's not your fucking fault that you fell asleep on rob's bed. It's not your fucking fault that he decided it was cool for a 31 year old to sleep in the same bed as a 19 year old girl with a boyfriend. It's not your fucking fault that in the morning he decided it was cool to kiss you "heavily". I don't understand how you could keep hanging around with him, and to be honest, that kind of fucking hurts. But I don't care. I know what we have is something so much better than those stupid arseholes up there in shitholetown, Vermont, ALL THE FUCKING WAY IN AMERICA will ever have. We have something they'll never understand. I forgive you. As hard as it is to believe I can sweep it all under the mat, I just did. I forgive you. It doesn't mean anything. It wasn't something serious. Fuck, it could have been so much worse, and for a minute on the phone when you told me, I thought it was. I forgive you. But you have to forgive yourself. Why can't you believe that someone can care for you so much that they can miss you more than they miss oxygen in a vacuum? I know you don't care much about yourself, but that's all the more reason for me to care about you. I know you think that you destroy everyone who gets close to you, that you can't attach for the long term, but you have to get over it. You say you're a used piece of tape because you've apparently loved too many people, but you haven't had that many relationships, and it's no different to anyone else in the world, and they still continue on. Just after you left you said you could see us lasting for quite some time, but now it's all on the knife's edge. You acknowledge that I am pretty much the perfect guy for you, and you're my perfect girl, isn't that reason enough to try and work together to get over the "tape with no stick" issue? I am here, your perfect guy, someone who you've clicked with on a level you've never felt before, and I’m saying we can work this out. We can continue to be happy. We can continue to be perfect for each other. We just have to work together and try. I'm sorry I smothered you when you were here; I wanted to give you as much space as you wanted, but you never demanded any - you didn't want to go out with friends, you wanted to be with me, and so I gave you what you wanted. I'm sorry I smothered you when you were gone, with a blanketing of sad emails that reminded you of real life, not the plastic and artificial bullshit life you've been leading for the last 3 months. I'm sorry I was and am so emotionally fucked up. I'm sorry that I am the most needy and fragile person you've ever known. I'm sorry, but I still love you. And I know, if this doesn't work out, I'll move on eventually, but I will still love you until the day I die.