An open fucking letter...and your answer is in here.
Lightning never strikes the same place twice, a sentence I've heard many times over the past year. Except it did strike the same place, three damn times. I'm putting this here, because I am stuck. Anyone I talk to just says "I told you so" or words to that effect. Even customers, who I only met briefly through my last job, are giving me the same line. I've said nothing on Facebook and actually kept pretty tight lipped. But I can't do it anymore. I've kept wishes, prevented you from being the ogre, but I can't bottle it up. I lost my best friend 3 weeks ago. I lost the love of my life. No, she isn't dead, but I feel like a ghost to her. I run the break up through my head, at least hourly, to try and figure out what happened in that blur of a weekend. Did I over react? Yes, I did. But outside circumstance added extra upset to everything else. I could feel my stability slipping away through my fingers, and upon being told you wanted to leave me - well I had to fight, I had to stand my ground, I didn't want to lose you. Three sentences stick in my head: 1; "I want to leave you, but don't want to be the ogre" 2; "I love you, but don't want to be with anyone" 3; "I'm sorry" For all intents and purposes I should be furious at you. I should never want to ever talk to you ever again. Fuck, you left me twice before without a look back. I was terrified going into this a third time. I told you my reservations, and you assured me that you couldn't hurt me again. But despite everything I knew that I loved you with a burning passion and worked really hard to trust you again, to have faith in your words. You asked me to move in with you, I left my job (which admittedly I didn't overly enjoy but it was more money than I have now), I left my own house, threw away my furniture and came to live with you and your family. Yes, it was hard. Yes, we had to adjust. But the moment you asked me to marry you I felt secure, faith fell into place. The next day you called off the engagement, even though I had bought you a ring. But you still wore it every day and that made me feel safe. We had 6 weeks of smiles, laughs, good times - yes we argued, but doesn't everyone? We grew stronger - I got a new job and applied for uni and we even spoke about getting our own place. It was everything I'd ever wanted with you. And then it happened, and i don't know why. My nan went into the hospital Saturday morning and you were so loving, so caring and we had a lovely day together. I agreed to go do more with you now that I had settled into living with you. That night we went to the beer festival, and I don't know what happened Why did you start telling me about the guy you had a one night stand with to get back at me? I didn't need to know he as good. I didn't need to know his name. But you told me over and over again. And then you asked if I'd slept with her. And even though I answered honestly, you wouldn't believe me. I've never lied to you. Never given you cause to disbelieve me. Yet you refused to believe me at that moment in time. You went nuclear. I don't know what was said to you after I got taken away for a walk. But the next day was filled with arguments. Filled with you telling me you didn't know if you wanted to be with me - and you know I was upset, you were there. I got angry, all of this over me having not slept with someone. You told me you wanted to leave me, but didn't want to be the ogre. And that night, you left me. I had to move out. I don't think you quite understand the hurt I felt seeing you. Knowing you would be asleep in the room above me, but I couldn't have you? Yeah. That hurt. Seeing you acting so happy, that hurt. I know you told me I didn't have to leave, that you weren't kicking me out. Please know that I couldn't stay. It hurt far too much having my world torn from underneath my feet by the same woman who asked me to marry her, just 6 weeks prior, hurt like nothing I've felt before. So I left, I moved back to my mothers. You've not asked or contacted me so I'll tell you: it's not going good. Step father told me the day after I moved in that he doesn't want me here and that if I get in his way he'll steamroll me until I move. Mum calls this a bolt hole and won't even call it home. I leave as early in the morning as I can and stay out of the house all day, coming back when they've gone to bed. My little sister has told my dad what's happened and he's not been in contact. I need to find somewhere to put my boxes, but they won't let me store them anywhere so the room I'm in is packed, I'm living out of bin bags. I've not got the rest of my things yet because originally I thought this would give you a bit of space, yet as weeks went on I heard nothing from you, I still live in hope you'll contact me and we can meet up. This just feels like a nasty argument right now - I've tried texting you but you won't reply, so I've given you space. But now I'm being told I want meant to move out, and that I need to get my things. I'm so confused. The last I heard about you was the whole Jordan thing, you just blew up at me because I wouldn't tell you how I heard. All I know is you're telling people I was intense - leaving out that I'd moved in and that you didn't want to be with anyone. Someone came to me and told me because they've been told. Your Facebook wasn't logged in on my ipad, it wasn't your step father. I wouldn't tell you because I was asked to not, as they're scared of you. Just think, a lot of people you went to college with are still friends with him, and are friends with me too. People talk. You and your mother thought I'd have someone else a fortnight ago, you are both wrong. I've not been with or gotten with anyone else. I can't. I let myself love you far too deeply and care far too much. Like I said I should hate you, I should, and in the heat of the moment I said I did, but I don't. I'd do it all again, just to see you smile. You were my best friend, you were the woman I wanted to marry, the woman I wanted to be the mother to my kids. I still love you dearly, and care so much about you. The amount of times I've driven to your house in the evening to try build the courage to see you, just to catch you silhouette and drive off with my heart in my throat, well I don't know how many times - it just happened. I don't understand why you're not talking to me. After all you left me, it was never going to be me leaving you, and I don't get what I've done to deserve this. As far as I'm aware, apparently I wasn't meant to move out. "Would things have changed if I could've stayed, would you have loved me either way?" Text me, email me, arrange to see me - please? I'm bored of being angry now and I miss you.
