An Open Letter to The Man Who Broke My Heart… set the mood: martha – tom waits

July 2, 2006 at 10:49 pm Leave a comment

Dear Sir,

Look what you’ve done. You came along, stole my heart, then trampled all over it like the slow and weak at a world cup riot. Thanks alot.

Actually, in one respect, such a loathsome human act of willfull defiance against me is appreciated, but only to extent to which it helped me realize that, despite my previous assumptions, my heart not only exists, it is clearly not small or black, so I’ll give you that one.

But I really don’t recall having ever asked you to make me cry for several weeks, then give me hope that you really did like me, then make me cry again for another two weeks, then to have you feed me bullshit about how I’m awesome (not bullshit) but that you are moving soon and therefore cannot start anything (bullshit – haven’t left yet, have you?) therein making me cry for two more weeks.

Alright, I did need to make sure my tear ducts are in order, my eyes have been feeling dry this year, but making me cry for almost two months? That’s unnecessary. A couple of days would have been enough.

I’d like to advise that in the future, instead of picking up at work when the girl knows you and trusts you, maybe just go find some ass in a bar. If you don’t give them your number or even promise to call, the likelyhood that they will fall in love with your superbly charismatic self will be significantly reduced. A girl can’t think someone is her soulmate if your never really talk to her, and she can’t forget about everyone else she’s been with when she’s too drunk to remember who she brought you home.

And if you actually do like me (which I implied earlier seems to be a steaming pile of bullshit), it’s balls that you have allowed your poor judgement to have the better of you, since I would have actually done anything to make the distance thing work. Having always thought that girls who move places for guys are insane, I can say officially that I’m totally crazy. But now, you’re getting in the way of me doing something crazy and adventurous. Good job. How do you feel now? Bad that I’m not able to act out my crazy because of you?

So let’s recap – you’re responsible for the following things:
– drying out my tear ducts – will need a good three months to rejuvinate that reservoir
– making me crazy
– keeping me from acting crazy
– taking my angry little heart and giving me hope
– attaching an M-80 to said heart and blowing it up near the river along which you walked me from work to school that beautiful snowy day when we soaked our Onitsuka Tiger sneaks because I thought it would be a good idea to walk there even though it was March and everything was frozen and you filled my mind with all the great things we would do when the summer arrived – but I’m doing a lot of cool things with my friends, so I’ve practically forgotten all the promises you made (and then proceeded to break, along with my heart)

So thanks for all that. And thanks for being completely rude and ignoring me (I emailed you once in a two week period, it wasn’t like I was stalking you and sending you poetry every three hours), and taking forever to return my things, and for being a total pussey, and for being friends with the girl you dumped due to your feelings for me, but telling me being friends would be too “awkward”, because it has just made me angry in addition to my sorrow. It’s rather exciting to experience utter rage AND sadness at the same time – I usually go from the latter to the former, but this time I’m doing both at the same time – what a thrill! I love having my life feel like a Fiona Apple song.

Godspeed!
.Megan.

ps. Clearly my remarks are out of humiliation and fear, and I honestly don’t want you to feel bad as a result of this airing of grievances – this isn’t me sinking to a lower level, it’s me trying to use humour to distract me from how completely heart broken I actually am. So please feel free to call me if you change your mind. I am, after all, totally awesome, and unlike any other guy, you make me feel like I am beautiful, intelligent, and most of all, like Me. I regret not doing that for you, since you are an amazing person – assuming your email was honest and not steaming bullshit, in which case you are a liar and I’m not sorry this letter is mean and sarcastic.

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Entry filed under: , An Open Letter To....

I hate the summer and the Gods of Summer hate me back… set the mood: blue side – rooney An Open P.P.S. to The Man Who Broke My Heart… set the mood: the love in – bettie serveert

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