I would like to start by letting you know I hate you. I’m done trying to dance around the truth, no matter how wrong it is for me to feel this way. I hate you, and it feels good to finally admit those words. I don’t just hate your actions, or your reactions, or the way you treated me, or the way you actually convinced me I was going crazy. I hate everything about you.
I’ve done so many stupid things in life, but you are one of my biggest regrets. I should have stayed far away, I should have never returned a phone call after the first night, I should have listened to my gut and all of the red flags I saw. But I didn’t, so here we are. You’re still playing the victim, and that’s really unfortunate for you. Because feeling strong is liberating. I know this because I feel strong. I am strong. That’s the only thing I got out of wasting almost a year of my life with you.
So, fuck you. I thought I was going to write about some of the individual things you did to me to make me feel this way, but there’s no point. You know what kind of miserable asshole you are, though you’ll deny it outwardly to everyone else in the world.
I hope you end up alone. Not because I don’t want you to be happy (but to be clear, I don’t), but because I don’t want you to put another woman through your bullshit. You are the worst kind of person. But you didn’t break me, bitch.
I guess I’ll end this letter by letting you know I’m happy. So. Fucking. Happy. Because I’m in love with a woman who knows most of my biggest flaws and doesn’t use them against me. A woman who will never spew hate or anger or try to break me or anyone. And I love her, too. It comes easy; naturally. I will never have to hide from her. At least your abusive, manipulative bullshit prepared me to know what real love is when it comes along.
So, that’s it. I’ve said what I needed to say.