Well, needless to say, I’m frustrated. If I had to pick one word to describe our relationship right now, I’d pick the word “unsuccessful”. I cannot do anything right for you. I am unable to cheer you up when you are down; I don’t know how to cool you off when you’re angry. In fact, often times, it seems like I just make it worse. You don’t think I’m cute or funny. You would pick hanging out with your friends over hanging out with me, nine times out of ten. You have no problem ignoring me, which honestly, hurts the worst. I don’t ignore Kiersten, my best friend. When I see her in the hallway or sit by her at lunch, I talk to her, laugh at her jokes, SMILE. If I am so difficult to be nice to, why are you still with me? Is this fun to you? Do you like having such power over one person? Because quite frankly, it sucks from this end. Hardcore. You’re into theatre. I’m almost at the point where I would take you “acting” like you liked me, than the coldness I’m getting from you now. I am doing everything I can possibly think of to make you love me back and yet, you still treat me like a piece of crap. It’s funny; you’d think dating for ten months would make you understand someone better. Nope. You are complete, shut up, cold mystery that honestly, seems like it doesn’t want to be solved by me. I want to share so many things and emotions and feeling with you, but I can’t! You are stubborn, hardheaded, and ignorant. This new you is so unappealing; the guy I fell for was NOTHING like you are now. He loved Jesus, had a joy for life, loved his mom and family, was kind and generous, romantic and sweet. He was the complete opposite of the bitter, tightfisted, mocking, jeering, closed off guy you are now.
Can I just say, one day of being “nice” to me does not make up for the six other days in the week that you ignore, belittle, and jerk me around.
Enjoy your friends, babe, because they are JUST. LIKE. YOU. It is blatantly obvious why you ALWAYS pick them over me. It’s because they are miniature girl versions of you. Oh, and by the way, it’s never okay for a boyfriend to spend the night with two other girls, regardless of what they all do or do not do. I lie and tell you it’s fine with me as long as you all are safe. Yeah, okay. If I had a sleep over with two other boys, it would break your heart and you know it. You’re just too full of yourself and too satisfied with the fake, irresponsible life you’re living to notice. The best part is, if I treated you the way that you treat me, you would be gone in a heartbeat and yet, here I am, taking all this crap from you and still standing willing to give you a smile and a ride home at the end of the day. I don’t know why. I just am.
I don’t know what I’m writing this letter for. I’ll never send it, but maybe, in the off chance that someday you do see it, you’ll know what you’ve been doing to me for the past three months and feel a little bit of what I’ve been feeling. I doubt it’ll change anything, but whatever. Honestly, it’s your loss.
I love you, and I always have. You’re just too cold and unkind now to see it.