I’d love to say that I hate you – but I don’t. I’d love to say that you screwed me over – but you didn’t. In reality, you actually helped me. You helped me become stronger. You helped me become a better person. Thanks to you, I know what to watch out for, what to look for. There were the days when you were the sweetest, the days where you were grouchy and angry, and the days when you were always spontanisly happy all the time. You would laugh and joke around or you would be yelling and mad all the time. But, I had my days too. I was grouchy. I was upset. I was happy. You dealt with me, with the shit I put you through.
The hardest descision I had to make was with you; when you took it, all of it. I hope you know that my dad knows and that he probably wants to kill you. I also hope you know that I wouldn’t let him. Wanna know why? Because I still care about you. Not the whole gooey/mushy way, but if you ever needed anything I would definetly help way. You made me feel good about myself, like I was worth something. You made me beautiful.
This letter isn’t about me being mad at you for taking my virginity or my heart. I’m not mad, I never was, and I never will be. I’m writing this because I want to thank you. So thank you for helping me realize who I really am, what I really need, and what I really care about. But mostly, thank you for loving me. I needed that at that time – you saved me. Without you, I probably would still be depressed. Really depressed.
I just wanted to let you know, thanks for being my escape.