Hope it gives you hell.


I have a little postscript to add to the letter I wrote a few weeks ago.

Yes, I’m a bitch. I have a wicked temper and when I want your attention I want all of it. When you pull away I’ll hold on tighter until the moment when I realize that it just isn’t worth it. I get the sulks, and I hate your best friend. I’m not going to pretend to have a good time just to make you happy — obviously you don’t care if I’m happy, so why should I fall all over myself for you?

But you know what? The archetype of the awful, bitter shrew you’ve built up in your head and described to your friends doesn’t exist. I’m pretty damn cool, when it comes down to it. I’m fiercely loyal and would gladly do anything for the people I love. When I’m having a good time, I have a great time. I love being silly and letting loose but I have a sense of responsibility. I like doing nice things for people, so if for example I happen to pass a place that’s hiring and know that you need a job, I’ll probably tell you about it. Maybe that makes me overindulgent, but you know what? I take care of the people I love. I refuse to feel guilty for being who I am — my biggest crime was wasting precious time ignoring the plain truth.

Let’s talk about you. You’re a snark monster when you want to be, a trait I would find endearing if it was evidence of a backbone rather than the result of the mile-wide passive-aggressive streak you hide under your chill, laid-back exterior. You have a narrow scope of interests, not a crime in and of itself except you have no desire to experience anything new. You don’t understand “give”, only “take” – to you, a partnership is an arrangement where you get everything you want and never have to give anything back. You have no ambition, no real plan for your life – I don’t even think you really know who you are, let alone what you want.

The depth of your self-indulgence will never cease to amaze me. You have one of those conveniently selective memories that fades out all the ways that you’re flawed, and you play the victim so well that even I, knowing better, almost believed it. Lies trip prettily out of your mouth, whatever story or platitude will make the way easier for you. (My favorite one was “I love you”.)

And truth be told, I miss you. And truth be told, I’m lying.


One comment

  1. […] a previous post (“Hope it gives you hell.”) I covered the anger part of separation. Since then, I’ve tried to focus on the more positive […]

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