Because I'm just not able for any of this nonsense anymore. What did I ever do to deserve any of this? I'm not actually a bad person. Or a stupid person. I'm pretty, y'know, different. But the kind of 'different' that I'm happy enough to be.
I'm angry at you because I really don't think I ever deserved this. I never meant to hurt you and it never crossed my mind to get back at you. I was happy to be with you. To be near you, for fuck sake. But that was my mistake, obviously. I really thought it was me you wanted. But I could have been anyone. Just so you didn't feel so alone. The last two years of my life were pretty intense, but I'd never erase them. They were not wasted. Not as far as I'm concerned. I loved you. I pretty much still do. Just not in the same way. I'd been moving out of our situation in my head with quite a while, I think. I was devastated, of course I was. But I lived to tell the tale. And I always will. Because that's the type of person I am. I probably only survive these (emotionally) deadly encounters just so I can write about them like this at a later date. Which suits me just fine. Because at least I am surviving. I'm pretty excited about life. About my life.
It still amazes me that people are interested in what I have to say or write or think or whatever.