• how?

    by  • November 21, 2011 • Breaking Up • 0 Comments

    It’s been almost a year since I finally worked up the courage to break up with you, and I’m so happy, I’ve not missed you for a second, I can honestly say that. The only thing that still troubles me is that I don’t understand how I could have possibly allowed myself to fall in love with such a pathetic, abusive, pretentious, jealous, leeching, arrogant waste of space as you. I’m a smart girl, one who is known for her forthright attitude and tendency not to take any shit from anyone. So how is it that I ended up allowing myself to be controlled for two and a half years by someone who I now consider it a complete waste of energy even to speak to? I will never understand how I fell in love with you, I can’t see any of your good points now and I don’t think I ever will. All my friends told me you were bad for me. My parents hated you, and my brothers. I stopped getting invited to parties because people knew I’d bring you. And somehow I thought they were all wrong. I still can’t bring myself to tell my friends most of the terrible things you did and said to me because I’m so embarrassed that I put up with it. Like when you used to get so drunk you’d call me a bitch in front of all of my friends and then get angry at me for bringing it up the next day, or when you told me it was my own fault that my drink got spiked because I went out without you, or all the comments you used to make about me eating too much even though I told you I used to have an eating disorder, or how you quit your job for no reason because you knew I was so loved up with you that I’d pay for everything, or how you shouted at me when you came to visit me at uni because I didn’t tell you beforehand that I was on my period so you wouldn’t be getting any, or how you alienated me from my friends and family by being unforgivably rude to them and then poisoning my mind with your fucking stupid pseudo-psychoanalysis of their issues and why they were wrong and you had every right to be as rude as you were, or how you’d make me feel so guilty I’d cry if I wanted to go on a night out without you but then if you wanted to go out you’d make me drive you there and stop off to buy you cigarettes on the way because you didn’t have any money as usual, or the time you shouted at me in front of my best friend because I went to the shop and bought myself a sandwich and got you a flapjack but you wanted something savoury?! I mean what the fuck?! It’s been a year and I’m still furious with myself for ever going anywhere near you. I try to stay positive and tell myself that I’m only 20 and you live and learn, and I know that’s true but I’m still missing a good few years of my life and probably close to about a thousand pounds that I wasted on you. I guess I can console myself with the fact that there is never ever going to be a girl as good and kind as me who will try so hard for you, but I have already experienced guys who can treat me infinitely better than you, and I’m sure there will be many more. I only hope that one day you wake up and realise that you need to change your ways because as much as I can’t stand you I can’t stand the thought of you turning out like your father. Maybe there’s still some hope for you, but I’ve not seen a trace of it yet. Oh and coincidentally, one more thing. That guy you saw pictures of me with on holiday that you got so upset about? I did kiss him. My only regret? That I still had enough love and respect for you in my twisted little mind that I refused to have sex with him. Still kills me.

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