Dear ------------,
This may probably be the very first time you're going to read my blog, and be surprised that I even have one. It is your decision whether or not to read everything from this recent post up to the oldest one, because I have to warn you that most posts here are about you. Yes, about you (but of course, your identity has been concealed...they don't know you)...and about me...and about how the only way I could deal with this was through an outpour of my emotions by writing, not minding what anybody would think, not really giving a care if one day you come across a post that only showed how much I hated you.
When I saw you the other day, I couldn't look at you. Everytime I tried to look at how you've changed, I felt as if a hundred ten-wheeler trucks kept hitting me over and over again. No, there wasn't really much pain, only resentment and regret. That's when I asked myself, "how could I have let you break down the wall I built around myself?" and "how could you have taken advantage of the trust I never gave away to anybody?" I knew these were rhetorical questions, but they ran on my mind still.
I still want you out of my life rather than be a hypocritical martyr, pretending I will be okay around you...because now I know that I will never be alright as long as I know you and your ghost will keep haunting me. You hurt me. Deep. I thought I could forgive you, but I couldn't. I'm already having a difficult time forgiving myself so maybe there's just no strength in me to forgive you. Ever. I really want you out of my life.
I wanted to make you feel all the hurt you caused me. I wanted you to have all those sleepless nights. I wanted your heart to bleed, the way you slashed mine. I wanted you to feel so lost, so unwanted, so unloved, and so depressed you think life is but a waste. I wanted you to go through everything I went through...but I couldn't. For you see, to cause you hurt causes my hurt to become deeper. I want you to become happy, but do not believe that you can be happy by having me as your friend, because I will keep on running away from you. I will only keep on telling you that I want you out of my life. I want to be out of your life.
It surprised me how you asked me last night why I was bitter. I was surprised because after everything I told you, you never understood the intensity of the pain and hurt...and that's when I realized you could never understand it. You weren't in the situation then...and the only thing that mattered to you was you had me. You HAD me. Not anymore. Just when I thought I knew you, I have discerned that I only blinded myself, led myself to believe that I knew you. And it is such a pity that although I opened myself up to you, you never took the chance to get to know me. Admit it. All that you know about me remains on the surface. That's how important I was to you. That's how much value you gave me.
Don't be disheartened because you lost me. Don't be sad because you feel that the friendship has been wasted. There wasn't any friendship at all in the beginning, was there? We failed to establish that, remember? Maybe we both allowed ourselves to become swept away. I know I did because I saw in a dream it was you who beguiled my heart. I chose you. You chose someone else. Don't be sad now that you've totally lost me. You have the memories. You can even have the ones I have because I never want to look back. And let me just say that when we both think we could start the friendship now, it is a bit too late. I could never think of you as a friend. I could never be your friend, because I will always hold this grudge against you, and hate you because your actions made me lose faith in love.
You said: "The hardest thing to do when moving on is to not look back."
I can do this. I don't want to look back, because the hardest thing for me to do now that I'm moving on is to look back. I have burned every single thing that reminds me of you, literally, both in reality and in my mind.
I said: "Do you take pleasure in making me miserable?"
That did it, didn't it? Those words actually made my attempt to shoo you away be successful.
After all these years, this is the first time you made me completely happy. It's not that I'm not grateful for the flowers you gave, or for the CD you made, or for the time you spent talking to me, or for that under the moonlight conversation, or for all the times you may have stood up for me, but honestly, from the moment we met up until last night, when you said you wouldn't call me anymore, it was the only time that you actually made me happy, because it was something I knew I wanted, something I asked you to do, something I would never think of as a mistake. Thank you.
It's Me,
Maddy
This may probably be the very first time you're going to read my blog, and be surprised that I even have one. It is your decision whether or not to read everything from this recent post up to the oldest one, because I have to warn you that most posts here are about you. Yes, about you (but of course, your identity has been concealed...they don't know you)...and about me...and about how the only way I could deal with this was through an outpour of my emotions by writing, not minding what anybody would think, not really giving a care if one day you come across a post that only showed how much I hated you.
When I saw you the other day, I couldn't look at you. Everytime I tried to look at how you've changed, I felt as if a hundred ten-wheeler trucks kept hitting me over and over again. No, there wasn't really much pain, only resentment and regret. That's when I asked myself, "how could I have let you break down the wall I built around myself?" and "how could you have taken advantage of the trust I never gave away to anybody?" I knew these were rhetorical questions, but they ran on my mind still.
I still want you out of my life rather than be a hypocritical martyr, pretending I will be okay around you...because now I know that I will never be alright as long as I know you and your ghost will keep haunting me. You hurt me. Deep. I thought I could forgive you, but I couldn't. I'm already having a difficult time forgiving myself so maybe there's just no strength in me to forgive you. Ever. I really want you out of my life.
I wanted to make you feel all the hurt you caused me. I wanted you to have all those sleepless nights. I wanted your heart to bleed, the way you slashed mine. I wanted you to feel so lost, so unwanted, so unloved, and so depressed you think life is but a waste. I wanted you to go through everything I went through...but I couldn't. For you see, to cause you hurt causes my hurt to become deeper. I want you to become happy, but do not believe that you can be happy by having me as your friend, because I will keep on running away from you. I will only keep on telling you that I want you out of my life. I want to be out of your life.
It surprised me how you asked me last night why I was bitter. I was surprised because after everything I told you, you never understood the intensity of the pain and hurt...and that's when I realized you could never understand it. You weren't in the situation then...and the only thing that mattered to you was you had me. You HAD me. Not anymore. Just when I thought I knew you, I have discerned that I only blinded myself, led myself to believe that I knew you. And it is such a pity that although I opened myself up to you, you never took the chance to get to know me. Admit it. All that you know about me remains on the surface. That's how important I was to you. That's how much value you gave me.
Don't be disheartened because you lost me. Don't be sad because you feel that the friendship has been wasted. There wasn't any friendship at all in the beginning, was there? We failed to establish that, remember? Maybe we both allowed ourselves to become swept away. I know I did because I saw in a dream it was you who beguiled my heart. I chose you. You chose someone else. Don't be sad now that you've totally lost me. You have the memories. You can even have the ones I have because I never want to look back. And let me just say that when we both think we could start the friendship now, it is a bit too late. I could never think of you as a friend. I could never be your friend, because I will always hold this grudge against you, and hate you because your actions made me lose faith in love.
You said: "The hardest thing to do when moving on is to not look back."
I can do this. I don't want to look back, because the hardest thing for me to do now that I'm moving on is to look back. I have burned every single thing that reminds me of you, literally, both in reality and in my mind.
I said: "Do you take pleasure in making me miserable?"
That did it, didn't it? Those words actually made my attempt to shoo you away be successful.
After all these years, this is the first time you made me completely happy. It's not that I'm not grateful for the flowers you gave, or for the CD you made, or for the time you spent talking to me, or for that under the moonlight conversation, or for all the times you may have stood up for me, but honestly, from the moment we met up until last night, when you said you wouldn't call me anymore, it was the only time that you actually made me happy, because it was something I knew I wanted, something I asked you to do, something I would never think of as a mistake. Thank you.
It's Me,
Maddy
