So… I messed up. I should've told you sooner. I mean, I didn't wanna tell you at all, but I should've told you sooner anyway, because wondering freaks you out even more, and I know you've been thinking about it because you keep asking me if it's been happening again. And it hasn't since, I promise, I just… I didn't wanna tell you about this one, 'cause I knew it would hurt you, but that was selfish. Or maybe talking to you about it in the first place is selfish. I don't even know anymore.
It's just… like, remember when I first moved in last year? And you came over to my room and just started making small talk? That was the first friendly conversation I'd had since high school ended. For a while you were basically the only real friend I had here. And it's not like I was used to having friends to begin with. Hell, I didn't even like talking to people about normal stuff. So I'm not used to this being someone else's problem. And it shouldn't be at all, but you're making it yours. And, I mean, that's fine if that's how you handle things, I guess, but it just… sucks. It's new to me, and it sucks. A lot.
And, yeah, I guess it's not completely new to me. 'Cause my parents did find out eventually. But the way they reacted… my mom just treated me like I was overreacting, and my dad just pretended it never happened. You actually cared about the root of it all. And you have no idea how much I appreciate that, but it's… scary. Your reaction when I said that it happened again was scary. When I told you, I never wanted to imply that it was your fault because that's so incredibly not true. But you… still don't believe that, do you…
I wish I could go back in time and take back telling you in the first place. Actually, no, I'd go back even farther. I'd go back to when I was ten years old, look myself square in the face, and be all, "Dude, don't keep beating yourself. 'Cause one day your closest friend is gonna know and it'll really upset her." And I totally didn't know who you were back then, but still. If I could go back and time and stop all of this, I'd do it in a fucking second. 'Cause this, this right here? This is so much worse than how it felt in the moment, every fucking time.
I don't like hurting other people. Which is like, duh, who does. But you know what I mean. I don't like that this is hurting other people. 'Cause it used to be so internal and now it so… isn't.
I'm a mess. I'm an inarticulate mess, as usual. God, my whole fucking life would be so much easier if—
I'm getting off topic.
The point is… all I know right now is that we both feel awful, and it's my fault, and I never want that to happen again. So, I'm stopping. Right now. This is the moment. The last time I did it is the last time I'll ever do it. And… and maybe one day I'll be able to say I did it for myself, but right now it's for you. So thank you. I'm still so fucking sorry that this is happening in the first place, but…thank you.