Dear I

Dear I

I don’t know if you will ever read this, or if you do what you will think of it.

I can imagine you will laugh and wonder why I felt the need to say these things. You may even show it to HIM like you did with the handwritten note I sent you. I’m sure you also sent him the email I mailed when I was at the edge of the cliff. The one that pleaded with you to stop, the one that asked you to see the damage that he had done to me, the one when I asked you woman to woman to forgive me for the wrongs that I did to you.

I apologised then and I do so again. I didn’t mean to freak you out by reading your blog every day. I don’t know why I did. I think it was because I wanted to understand you. I wanted to know what you had that made HIM go to you when he was down. I wanted to know what made the person that he wanted.

I looked at your posts and smiled to myself at your childish ways. Your continued need for recongition from others, the need to be told you were beautiful and slim. As I told you in the note I wrote, you are beautiful and funny and if circumstances had been different I do think we would have been friends.

We are quite similar in some ways. We both feel the need to constantly belittle ourselves, we both constantly strive to be liked by people that we don’t need in our lives, we both want to be different people.

I don’t hate you now. I did in the begining and can’t pretend I didn’t. I wanted to smash your face into tiny particles when I saw that you had called me crazy in an open forum. That strangely was the most hurtful thing that you did. It also made me see how manipulated you had been by HIM. You believed HIM with his lies, and you tried to make them true. For awhile you did. I was crazy, I was hurt and I was on the verge of ending it all.

I got up everyday with a black sickness deep inside me. It ached to breath and my face stung from the tears I had shed. He told me that he was seeing you when you came over to the UK, he blew off plans with me when we were trying to stay friends to be with you, he told me you understood him, he told me you listened when I wouldn’t, he told me that he didn’t like you like that, he told me I was threatening towards you, he told me he would always protect his friends, he chose you over me.

That’s what hurt the most in the end. The fact that when I told him I could only be friends if he stopped speaking to you and he wouldn’t. When he laughed in my face and told me that I was being stupid when I told him that I would never forgive him for that – I would never forgive him for choosing you over me.

I still look at your blog occasionally. I like to see what you are doing. Even though I don’t want you under my skin you are there. You’ve become an itch I can’t quite scratch yet.

Am I still jealous of you? No, I’m truthfully not anymore. You are 22, naive and frail. You are still a baby bird waiting to take that leap from the nest. You don’t quite yet live in the real world, yes you’ve experienced some bad things, but you live on the jetstream of your parents success and money. Your time will come when you will have to truely make your own way in the world. Its daunting and scary as fuck and I’m just doing it now myself. I thought I always lived in the real world until I realised for 10 years I’ve been in someone’s shadow. I’ve been a puppet and a toy taken out for amusement when they wanted me.

I wish you no harm at all. I only hope that you can grow. I hope he also treats you better then me. I hope you are strong enough to walk away when the time comes and not stay in the hope it will get better.

Remember you have the power to make it better, only you. Use it wisely when you need it.

S x

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