On New Years Eve of 2008, I met a guy I would eventually fall in love with.
Ninety days later, he left the country.
This blog is both an online diary of the thirty9 weeks until I see him again
& a recollection of the events that created 'us'.
A running commentary on a long distance relationship friendship.


A failed relationship - documented.
The final installment of 'Our Story' was never written & I doubt it ever will be.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Response

Pardon me? I don’t really know where to start.

Firstly, ‘you’ve decided to leave me’? Haha, good on ya. You’re on the other side of the planet, and you were never really ‘with’ me in the first place. I can’t remember when I gave up on there ever being an ‘us’.

Secondly, “You don’t need me”. You’re right. I don’t. And, newsflash, I never did. I am quite ok on my own. I liked you, I enjoyed your company, I could see what you could have become and I wanted to be there for that. But I didn’t need you. Not then, not now, not ever.

In regards to the "needyness, constant need for communication, lack of trust, self centredness and insecurities" I have two words. Fuck. you. Just as an FYI, if you ever get another girl friend, even in the same country, they will have these as well. Long distance relationships require communication because that’s all there is holding it together, something you clearly didn’t understand. I was never self centred, if anything, I was so concerned about you, I forgot my own mental health, which you totally screwed up, by the way. I could point the finger right back at you, but you know what… I’m sure you’re WELL aware of your own problems.

Seeing as you said it, and I didn’t, “I’m the reason you are who you are today”. Remember the person you were in December 08? Remember the person you were at the end of March 09? I don’t know what happened to either of them. I had something to do with the March version of you…but this you? I don’t know him, and I don’t like him.

Did you forget that you messaged me in the first place? Were you drunk? That’s usually the reason you’ll send me a text, cause when you’re wasted, money doesn’t mean anything. When you need me, THEN it’s ok to spend money… This was your message

{ Iv just spent the nyt watching BMX dvds, porn and drinking vodka, im sliping Liv. I spend each day dreaming about how id like to look, feel and act that [broken message] [broken message] }

You sent that Wednesday night. I didn’t get it until Friday. When I read that, I panicked, because for some God known reason, I still gave a shit about you. I’d already told myself I wasn’t going to waste my time, but I cared, so I texted.

{ Ok, msg or email when you get up and I’ll call. If you don’t respond to me at all, you won’t hear from me again. No excuses ok? I’m not being funny, if you fuck me round, that’ll be it. I’m worried and you need to talk to me. }

Yes, I was two days late, but I didn’t realise that til after I’d sent the message. I shouldn’t have rung. I should have left it. I didn’t call you because I ‘needed communication or was being self centred’, I rang because I was worried and I wanted to know if you were ok. Just remember you messaged me first, I was responding. Not that you’d know what a ‘response’ was.

Hrm, what else… “Everything you became because of me has turned around and bitten me in the arse”. Kinda like the dog biting the hand that feeds it hey?

Oh, of course. Remember when you said you wanted us to be honest with each other? Did you forget? I don’t think you were ever honest with me. Because, that would require communication wouldn’t it? Grow up, seriously, learn to talk to someone instead of waiting for a text, not responding and not picking up your phone. It’s pathetic. It would have been over earlier & I wouldn’t have had to waste my time. Grow some balls, man up and stop being such a girl.

Last thing don’t you dare, ever, treat another girl the way you treated me. I gave you so much of me, and you gave me nothing. Absolutely zip.

This is the end of a chapter AND this is good bye.

& just because I've been SO civil and nice through all the bullshit you put me through.

FUCK. YOU.