You're Not Sorry, But I Am
You're Not Sorry, But I Am
I know that you never really knew or cared about who I was, but now you will never know. You will never know the love I have to give, or the patience I have for people interested in “real” change. You will never get answers as to why you are so depressed and empty all of the time because I will never be able to get through.
I will never lie about how many orgasms you gave me, or how big your dick, arms and chest are, or who I think is the smartest up-and-coming criminal lawyer again.
I will never listen to your repetitive stories or your idealization of your mentors or how excellent your job is again.
I will never listen to songs like “Honky Tonk Vagina” and sing along again.
You will never see BRIDGET, MY dog who loves ME, again.
You will never have the opportunity to criticize me or my intelligence, lexicon or grammar again.
I will never pay for another expensive, grandiose vacation again when I’m the one broke and without a job and you are the one working for a “top ten” firm.
I will never volunteer my things or my time to you again.
I will never sacrifice my sympathy, energy and effort listening to your made up problems again.
You will never hear any more words come out of my mouth other than “301.81” and “stay out of my life” again.
I am a person other than you, who has emotions and feelings outside of your own. Me and my feelings matter, and I will no longer sacrifice my own personal, emotional or professional growth because one day “you will come around.”
I have lost both of my parents in my twenties, my remaining family members are psychopaths and I have serious emotional issues too and I need and deserve help, compassion and support just as much as you do.
I’m sorry for hurting you and what I did in the beginning was not ok, but I did everything and anything I could possibly do to make it ok. What was not and continues to not be ok was how, after the tables had turned, you literally flipped them over in my face, took it all, and ran.
I’m not a diseased or disordered person. You are. I’m not distorted or deranged. You are. I don’t deserve to suffer for the rest of my life. But you will.
It wasn’t right to bite me and leave bruises on my face and neck two days before my entire family flew in to see me walk at graduation and shake a U.S. Supreme Court Justice’s hand to make sure “everyone knew I was yours.” It wasn’t right to slap my face “in passion” because “I liked it.”
It’s not ok to say “I love you” and lie.
The illusion is over now. I will never be fooled again. You will come back and I will be the one to say, “no thanks” ⎯and you will just continue to move on your way, without a flinch, being the sorry, pathetic, disgusting little parasite that you are.
But I thank you. I do. You taught me such an important lesson that not all people are good. Not all people can be trusted. Not all people deserve my love and attention just because they exist. They must prove to me first that they are capable of providing the same in return.
I have finally found my strength and myself. And I will continue to become someone and something that you will never be…but will always search for to usurp from someone else.
You know what the only difference is between you and me Evil? You’re not sorry. And you never will be. And for that⎯I’m sorry for you.