The Worst Kind

Sometimes I miss him. A wise friend told me to write him a letter telling him exactly how he's made me feel over the years, fold it, and put it in my wallet. When I find myself missing him, take it out, read it, and remind myself why I finally walked away. I took the advice and I wrote the letter. I don't think I've ever taken it out to read it, though. I don't know if it's because I lived it and I recall how he's made me feel quite vividly, or if it's because I don't want to relive the way he's made me feel. Either way, the letter stays put.


I applaud myself on this one. This was one "relationship" where I think I did everything as right as I could have. I was very open and honest with both myself and him about what I wanted and how I felt. I didn't get the same in return. I also allowed myself (slash WANTED) to be affectionate with him. He reciprocated usually. I tried to decipher through his mixed-up, mixed signal comments, explanations and thoughts. 

"We can't be together. It would never work." *Kiss*

His career paths were noble ones. In my mind, I turned him into something he was not. I made him better for me than he is. I made excuses for his behaviors: One, two, three, four...one- hundred strikes. Even when he was wrong, he was right. I can't help but think of him whenever I pass his "job."

"You would be the only girl with tattoos that I'd ever like."

Sometimes I would get shut down, put down and held down and then I'd get a gift two days later. I used to think it was because he cared and thought of me. Now I just think it was some form of abuse. A pattern behavior. As honest as I was, I would still get told that I was making things up, that it was all in my head and I was the crazy one. My only response was and could only be: You've treated me like dirt. I don't need to make up more reasons to hate you.
But I don't hate him; I feel badly for him. I just know I can't and won't be around anymore to take the abuse.