I'm ending it here and now. All of it. I used to wonder about you all the time. Where you were in Chi-town, who you were with -- if you were happy. All that did was hurt me. I thought having you back in my life would stop all that. It only deepened the wounds. It didn't hurt to hear you talk about S. + getting over her -- that stuff just happens. It hurt to know that you didn't even want to try, and if you call Friday night "trying" then you are pathetic. I want you to know that you are the worst friend I've ever had. I've had enemies who have shown me and my feelings more respect.

The hardest decision in my life? Agreeing to go see a counselor. The hardest phone call? Scheduling the appointment. I can't deal with this alone anymore. And any time I tried to talk to you about it, your actions made it more than clear that you didn't want to deal with it (Your actions, btw, have always spoken louder than your words. I've included a list of things you've said we'd do or what you wanted to do -- count how many you've made good on). I can't deal with the fact that someone I loved so much and who, for all intent and purpose, said he loved me back, is just barely a friend of mine. I told you I was afraid of losing you again. I guess I was right -- I've lost you completely. And it kills me that there's a probabilitiy you won't ever care -- that you probably haven't even made it to this part of the letter. I can get over that, though, and maybe one day I'll get over you. I hope that day is soon. One day, I hope that I can reconcile the fact that I gave so much of myself to you and to this, right up to the very end. I listened to you, tried to learn about what you were interested in, read what you read and while I can rest easy that a part of me did it to better myself, a huge chunk of me will always feel duped and used. I can't be a part of this double standard anymore. Did you really expect me to tell you what that LiveJournal entry was about? We hadn't talked online in days, seen each other in weeks, and every time I tried to talk to you about what was bothering me, you'd reply with "Ah" and nothing more. Did you expect me to open up and just tell you when I won't even tell the people who have sat up with me until 3am trying to work through all of this shit? You must be crazy. I might have been inclined to tell you if I thought you'd care enough to sit down and listen and talk, not tell you quickly before you go to get your new girlfriend at the airport and spend all night with her. I'm sure you knew, on some level, that part of this had to do with you. You just never cared enough to really try and find out or fix it.

I'm sorry I let you in again R., I really am. I blame myself for being stupid, hopeful, and naive. I will always regret these years in college and it will always be because of you. You said something which you later took back and cite it as anger. Well I say the same to you, but I mean it with every ounce of my body -- you have caused me "irreversible damage." You are the reason I don't trust men and probably never will. You're the reason I hate Chicago so much.

When we talked on the phone, the tone in your voice, the traces of longing and needing me that I heard made me feel good -- I was wanted and wanted by you. You had no one else, you said. Aside from your guy friends -- that I was your only friend and the only one you could talk to about S. Nice way to treat "only" friends.

You said you never wanted to hurt me again. How can you have done anything since that Friday and not have known somehwere inside that it killed me? "Can you be just friends with me?" you asked. Your answer was "Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to be just friends. It's just better this way for a while." That's bullshit. My final answer? Yea, I probably could. But why would I want to be friends with someone who treats me subpar? Any pain I feel without you in my life will be dull in comparison to the pain I feel now, trying to pretend that what we have as a friendship actually means something to you.