After everything that’s happened, for the sake of my closure, I still have some things to tell you even though I know I probably never will, since I don’t think I’ll ever have the opportunity to talk to you again. I want you to know that I know hating is not good for me, but I can’t help myself. I hate you more than I ever loved you (which was a shitton). I don’t think I can ever really forgive you, but the best I can hope for is to forget your existence. You are the worst human being I have ever encountered, and one of the questions I find myself asking every day is why the fuck I ever met you. I don’t ever deserve what you did to me and what you put me through.
I gave you everything. I gave you my full attention, more love than I have ever given anyone, and overall, everything. You cannot ever do better than me. I prioritized your happiness like ten-hundred-fold over mine and did everything you ask me to do. One of the last phrases you ever said to me was that you “finally got you to do something! I never could really do that before!” I fucking hate thinking about those memories and that day, but you are a maniac if you think you couldn’t make me do something because you are the single most manipulative person I have ever met. You got me to do things I thought I’d never do, and you forced me into so many fucking things. On that same night, you said we could be acquaintances, that we can rebuild our relationship into something even better than what it was. You told me we could still talk about casual things so long as I don’t come to you for help or advice. It killed me, but I agreed to these terms because talking to you was better than no contact. This is where I understand how deeply I was affected by you since I agreed to this after you gave me a knife for me to hurt myself. But one day after that, you blocked me from everything. You are PSYCHOTIC. You know I take what you say seriously and that I expect you to maintain your goddamn promises, but you were too caught up in your fucking head to even give me that little respect. I don’t know how a human being can treat anyone the way you treated me, not just during our final days but throughout our relationship.
You spit on me. Do you even fucking realize how psycho that is??? Probably fucking not since you got me to forgive you in one hour. You have yelled at me in public, outside my apartment and even in the library. You humiliated me, embarrassed me in front of my friends, your friends, my roommates, etc. You talked down to me every day and made me believe that I am worthless. You told me that I am the biggest failure in our 25000-people-college, that my (lack of) intelligence was a turnoff, that I am the most uncreative person you’ve ever met. This was every. single. day. You would not spare me one fucking day from your verbal abuse. And you would throw temper tantrums or manipulate me when you wanted something I didn’t. And because I was so fucking clouded in my judgment and because I valued your happiness so much, I gave in every fucking time. I have never put you through the misery you put me through. You ruined my birthday, but I felt sorry for picking that fight and apologized for it at least twenty times, to which you didn’t even reply. When I was locked out of my apartment and was forced to sleep over at your apartment, you treated me like complete shit and didn’t even apologize properly for that.
You’ve said so many times that you’re immature and you’re abusive. But why the fuck couldn’t you change that? When we talked to the therapist together on the last day we spoke nearly three weeks ago; you said, “My other friends are fine with the way I spoke to them. Only you're not.” No one was fine with it (except maybe R, who himself is mentally ill). Your fucking roommate came to me and complained. Here are the exact words K said: “He will learn your insecurity and STAB it in, in a way that it hurts so bad.” You’ve convinced yourself that I am the problem, but I was the only one who put up with you, forgave you for your constant abuses, defended you to everyone, stuck with you through thick and thin, and loved you with every ounce of my soul. You will not be able to replace that.
I admit that I have picked a lot of fights. Most of them are justified — when you yelled at me in the library or something, how the fuck do you think I’m going to react to that? You wanted me just to take it in and laugh about it, right? In fact, if I had done that, we probably would still be talking now. But I have more self-worth than that. I could not let you do that to me and treat me subhuman. When I picked unreasonable fights with you, that’s because my conscience told me that since I was enduring so much abuse, I had to burst at times. Of course you’ll never understand this and I don’t expect you to either. It’s just a matter-of-fact, like you’d say.
Unless you’re literally on bipolar medications right now or something, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you. I have gone through some of the worst times of my life, worse than when my mom was diagnosed with cancer. I’ve been to therapists, cried almost every day, and have killed my soul in trying to find the smallest happiness. You did this to me. I hate you and I don’t care if you told me never to hate someone. I hope you realize soon that you had something you will never in a million years be able to find again. But more than that, I just hope I find happiness without you. I don’t give a shit what happens to you next, but all I want is to be happy and recover from this shithole you dug and pushed me into.