You're just impossible, aren't you? Yeah, I threw it away. Yeah, I got curious and read it anyway.
Oh, ha. This letter's real funny. You think you've got it bad? At least your boyfriend didn't cheat on you with the resident man slut just because he's scared he's too in love with you. Who even does that, Ryan? For Christ's sake, who the fuck even does that? You could have just talked to me, douchebag! Fuck you. Fuck you and your "let's be friends again" "let's start over" "I'm such a fucking emo I start crying at your random pieces of clothing!" I'm not in the fucking mood, Ryan.
The worst part about this is that I'm still so fucking in love with you. I really, really want to be happy that you're miserable. But I can't. So you can suck my fucking dick. Except not really, because that's only giving you what you want. But still. You can go die. Except don't, because that would only make it worse.
Fuck this. No. I'm not letting you come back. I can't. Because if I do, then I'm a hypocrite. You hurt me, Ryan. You cheated on me, you got yourself drunk and high and you cheated on me. What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Ryan? The rules clearly state that I am not, under any circumstances, to let you back. I've always scoffed at people who let their boyfriends come back after cheating. Why would anyone do that? They're only going to do it again, right? If they could do it once, why wouldn't they do it again?
I guess a part of me knows you wouldn't let it happen again, because I know you. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. Except that you did hurt me, Ryan. I'm not going to skirt around the issue. I'm not going to pretend I don't care so that I can protect my pride. I've got no pride left; all I've got is a wastebasket full of Kleenex and a desperate ex-boyfriend sending me letters that make me want to take the fucking douchebag back.
I, unlike you, am not afraid to tell you exactly how I feel. I still love you, of course I do. You were right when you said we were the other halves of each other's souls. But I can't deal with this, Ryan. You hurt me when you did this. I trusted you, I never did anything but love you, and you just went and blew it all up. And for what? For crappy sex with Dan Reynolds, because you were scared of the future?
Let me tell you something, asshole. People are always going to be scared of the future. What'll happen next month, next year, in the next millennium? What will I be doing in ten years? Where do we go when we die? No one knows the future, Ryan. And people are people and they fear the unknown. I do, too. But being scared is different than sleeping with fucking Dan Reynolds. Dan Reynolds, really? I mean, come on. If you were going to cheat on me, why couldn't you have done it with someone really fucking awesome, like Gale Harold or President Obama? Why the fuck did it have to be Dan fucking Reynolds?
Jesus. Why did it have to happen at all, Ryan? I know you said you weren't looking for understanding, but if you were I swear to god I couldn't give it to you. I'm not worthless. I never had any sort of complex like that. I never once had the thought, "He's too good for me." Because you're not too good for me. You were perfect for me. And I was perfect for you. So I don't understand why this even happened. So it's a pretty fucking good thing you're not asking for my understanding.
I'm sitting across the lab table from you right now. You keep looking at me, and I keep ignoring you because I know you're wishing that I'm writing back to you. I continue glancing back and forth from the board, like I'm taking notes, to make it clear that I am most certainly not writing you back. Except that I am. So it feels kind of pretentious.
This whole thing is just stupid. Yeah, you hurt me, but I'm okay now. After that letter I kind of realized this whole thing is just a pile of shit. This is nothing, Ryan. Some people have real problems, like Jeremy and Anna. I talk to Jer a lot now, ever since he joined GSA and all. You know, she still doesn't know he's messing around with Zack. I feel like I should tell her, but I fucking can't, you know? Because I know that Jeremy's scared fucking shitless. He doesn't know what he's doing either. And poor Zack, goddamn. All he ever fucking wanted was Jer, you know? And now he's got Jer… only not really… because Anna's still in the picture and Jeremy doesn't know what to do.
For some people, it's simple; dump your girlfriend for the boy you love. In theory, everything is simple. Like, if your boyfriend cheats on you, drop him like it's hot. But when it comes to real life, you can't go back to these rules. We always think we know, but we don't. There aren't any rules when it comes to love, Ryan. And yeah, I'm fucking pissed. But to forgive you? Damn, Ryan, I forgave you the minute you first said you were sorry. Because I could tell you fucking meant it. You meant it more than you've ever meant anything you've said to me.
The first time we did it, I should have told you I loved you too. Because I did. How shitty are we, huh, Ryan? Both of us felt it but neither of us said it. Why are we so scared all the time? I love you, Ryan. I love you. I can't help it; by now it's etched into my mind, engraved into my soul. I can't just let this go, you and I. Because the way I see it, even if we pretend it's over, it's not. It's never going to end, not like this. Maybe someday we'll split up, but it'll be on our terms, because it's what's best for us. Not like this, where one little thing can tear us apart.
You're watching me. I want to smile and kiss you and tell you it's okay, that we're okay. But I can't, because I'm not done explaining. I need you to know, Ryan. I need for you to understand why I'm allowing this. I'm not a pushover. You know that.
If it's true that we only have one life, then what's the point of it? If we can't forgive the ones we love, then how can we be happy? This isn't a test. There is no "I'll do better next time." If there is no next time, we need to realize what's important to us right now.
And let me tell you, Ryan. I'm still pissed about it. But it's not an "I'm going to hold a grudge forever" kind of being pissed. I'm always going to remember that night and how hurt I felt and how much I wished we were never together. But then I'm going to see that it's better now. And what they say is probably true, about loving and losing being better than never loving at all. Tennyson, Ryan. Tennyson said that. But nobody really knows that, unless they're into that sort of thing. Anyway. What I'm saying is, he's right. I'm glad that I loved you, and that you loved me back. And I'm so proud of what we had—a mature relationship, at our age? We're fucking amazing, Ryan.
But you're right. We can't ever go back to how it was. And at the beginning of this letter, I was so fucking ready to tell you to take your fucking starting again and shove it up your ass. But while I was writing this, I kind of realized that it's stupid. You made a mistake, yeah. It was stupid, yeah. Do I forgive you? Of course. Can we be friends? Not just. I could never only be your friend again, Ryan. As much as I would love to, I wouldn't be able to handle it, and it would only end up hurting us both more to be so close to each other and not being able to do anything about it.
My original plan was to tell you that we'd just have to go our separate ways, never see each other again. But when I was thinking that, I kind of started crying and you were just staring at me, wondering what the hell for. I bet you probably blamed yourself for this particular outburst. Well good, because it's your fault. I'm in the bathroom right now—Mrs. Jamison thinks I'm collecting myself, but really I'm just finishing this.
I can't stand the thought of being without you ever again. So I've decided to accept your proposal of starting again. But not as friends. I need to know you're going to be all there. You come back as my boyfriend, Ryan. I miss you.
I'm going to slip this into your binder when you're not looking. When you read it, come over to my house. We missed our fifteen-month-a-versary last week—we've got some catching up to do.
I love you. I forgive you. I miss you. Come back. Isn't that all you needed to hear?
Love you too, always and forever,
PS: I want my belt back.