I know that if I tell you this you’ll only disagree with everything I say. So this is how i get it out. Maybe you’ll see it and you’ll wonder.
But I’m passionate, and you’re calm, collected. I’m angry, and you never are. I’m a hopeless romantic, even though I pretend not to be, and you’re…always a gentleman, to every girl you meet. I hate almost everyone, and am only capable of being around the people who I truly like. And I only like people who make an impression on me. Who are something to an extreme degree. I only like those people who are amazing and interesting, and I will forgive them for anything for that, even if they’re not good people. I like people who surprise me, and make me laugh, and who are brilliant and completely unafraid. I think everyone else is a waste of my time. And I could care less about morals, as long as they haven’t murdered anyone. You give everyone the benefit of the doubt, you give them all second and third and fourth chances. And you only like people who are good, and pure of heart, I guess would be the cliche but true way of putting it. I’m stupid, and impulsive. You’re wise and patient. I want hard core passionate sex. The devastating, sub/dom, bad romance type. You want lingerie and whipped cream and flavored body candy stuff. Maybe you’re not sure what you want. You never really said. I want randomness. You plan everything. I want to break rules, all of them. You believe in order, and you never change your schedule. Unless it’s with me, because you know I’ll let it slide (you douche). I want you to get angry. But you never will. I guess what I want is imperfection, and what you are is perfect. We love spending time together, but if that’s all there is is it enough? I want to find out. It hurts me that you moved on so quickly, and I never want to meet your new girlfriend, because I know I won’t be nice. And I know that she’s probably prettier than me, I saw some pictures on facebook. And I know she’s probably cooler than me too, I saw what she got you for your birthday. I would never have done that. I hate her because you like her. And if I ever meet her, both of you will regret it, because being a bitch is probably the only thing that I can do better.
I think that you think you’re too good for me anyways. But you’re not too good for me, because don’t you try too hard to be good? You can’t please everyone. Realize that already.
In the end, we’re pretty different. Even though we understand eachother. I’m a total weirdo, and kind of a fuckup, and I’ve gotten used to being a fuckup. I can accept myself in my own fucked up way. And I want someone as equally fucked up. So in the end, you’re perfection is what makes you imperfect for me.
I know it’s cold of me to say something like that. It sounds like complete bullshit, I know. Take it as you will, I know you will anyway. You never really listened to what i had to say. You always just assumed you would be right. In a way, aren’t you just as full of yourself as the rest of us?
This is cold, and horrible of me to say, because I was the one who ended it. But i could always see right through you. You were always waiting for it to end. You always said that I would leave, that this wasn’t going anywhere. We never said forever, even though you said it to your completely insane, borderline personality disorder, hallucinating, self proclaimed “3000 year old reborn witch”, cutter exgirlfriend. Yeah. What the fuck is that?
And so I did leave, and all you said was “ok”. So you know what? Fuck you. Because you would never fight for me. You couldn’t even bring yourself to call me a whore and tell me to go die. Which I would have deserved, if you weren’t so fucking chipper and fine with everything. And then two months later, you moved on. So quickly, and so easily. It’s always easy for you, isn’t it? And I’ve noticed that you treat all the women in your life the same. You make the same jokes, say the same lines, and we all react the same to it don’t we? So that’s why. I want MORE THAN THAT.
And I never could depend on you. I could talk to you, but you never had my back. Not like I always had yours. Because you’re just not that person. And I want that person.
But we’re still hanging out, and it’s painful, and easy, and fucking weird. And I’ll keep hanging out with you, because goddammit I like you. On a personal level. And you’ll do the same, because you like me too. And if you’re feeling anything you’ll never show it.
So, that’s how it is. I’m sorry, but not really that sorry. Because you’re a cold bastard. And the fact that you try so hard not to be is what ends up defining you as one. And you’ll never, ever understand that.
And you’re a total pussy. I could kick your ass. Hell, fucking little girls with pigtails and maryjanes could EASILY kick your ass.
And just so you know, I was faking every time. And I did it to spare your feelings. I was chronically unsatisfied for years, just to spare your feelings. Because there was no way that you could have ever done it for me, because it just comes down to who you are as a person (see above comment about your giant vagina). Now it really pisses me off. And yes, that is a big part of why I dumped your ass.
Goodbye forever, my onetime love.
I’ll probably see you tomorrow…