diary livejournal fossils
Bad enough for an LJ cut
The sex, all two times, was mediocre; we talked about only a small segment of things over and over again; we each felt that we had to hide part of ourselves to match the other person; you broke up with me a total of three times, all for the same reason; and we finally ended things over our first argument: about the sheets on the bed. Hardly a deep relationship.
I don't want you back. I saw the end of the relationship coming months in advance, and I know you felt it. It was a relief when the tension was broken and I no longer had to work to keep that non-balance working. I don't love you anymore, except out of some perverse brotherhood after having known you for so long, and I don't expect you to take me back in any way.
So why am I still torn up? I think because I hate you. Like, true hatred, utter loathing, complete contempt for the way you ruined my life - the way I view myself, the way I interact with others, and every daily trivial task that I have to deal with - and it's making me hate myself in turn. I want to hurt you as bad as you hurt me, and that's a pretty ugly feeling.
Andrew Streyer, I hope you live a happy life with whomever you want, doing whatever you want, but please don't ever talk to me again.