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Goodbye, MTIA

December 19, 2013

Subtitle: Guess who’s NOT getting a bass guitar for Christmas/Yule/Festivus?

Dear MTIA:

Yesterday, I broke down (as I always do) and sent you a text, which you ignored. Point. Fucking. Taken.

Today, when you finally could be bothered to get back to me, you told me point blank that you had nothing to say to me except that you hope I am okay. I needed you as my friend, and you weren’t there. I needed not to have found a used condom on your bathroom floor. Or I at least needed to have found it before I bought the best tickets available for a hockey game so that we could go together.

I have not been okay. I am not okay. I will be. But right now, I’m not.

I am angry that I let myself be used so that you could have these little moments of happiness in your life without ever having to give anyone any kind of commitment. Maybe being a slut works for you, but it doesn’t work for me. I don’t want to be one, and I sure as shit don’t want to be in love with one. I don’t want to ever have to prove that I love someone by being heartless to them, which seems to be all you understand. The only way you think you can know someone loves you is by having them treat you like shit. It makes me sad to think just how much I love you and that you’ll never know.

But you have your roommate, and whoever else it is you’re sleeping with. That’s enough for you, or so you think. You are so broken that you can’t even let yourself fall in love. Honestly, based on how I feel right now, I envy your resolve. I would have loved you until the day I die, and finding the strength to let go of you isn’t easy.

I hate that I can’t even be mad at you. You told me how this would be from the start, more or less. I was convinced it was a lie, though. I also convinced myself that for the first time in my life, I didn’t have to hide anything about myself. I was wrong. I deceived myself – you never intentionally deceived me. It would have been nice to be told when you starting sleeping with someone else, but I get the impression that such disclosures aren’t considered a common courtesy for you. Had I asked you specifically for that kind of information, I expect you would have provided it. I suppose I wanted to be deceived.

My hope is that you someday heal and understand that there are people in the world who care about you and love you dearly. I’m sorry that I likely won’t be around to watch such a realization. At least right now, though, I need to stay as far away from you as I can possibly manage. You won’t even notice. I had hoped you would forget about me if I just disappeared, and you have. It hurts regardless. It hurts to think that you’ll see my artwork on your walls and not even stop to wonder what went wrong. I wish I could ask for the painting back. It sounds petty, but I don’t mean it to be. It seems silly for you to have artwork that means so much to me belong to you when you don’t fucking care. Do you think I put my time and effort into my work and then just give it away on a whim? You probably do, because it’s probably what you would do. So my reaction is my personal responsibility. Damn you, Soren Kiergegaard.

For me to expect more of you than you are capable of ever giving or achieving is unfair, but I refuse to expect less from a partner than I would give willingly to a partner myself. I don’t want to keep trying to help someone who believes there is no help left. Sure, I wish I was as damaged and as consequently jaded as you are, but at the end of the day, I still have faith that I deserve to be loved as much as I love, and you have made it clear repeatedly, that you neither could nor ever would love someone again.  You once told me without the slightest hint of sarcasm that “it’s not you, it’s me.” Wow. You are so right.

The fact that I believe in love and partnership doesn’t make me a shitty person. The fact that you don’t, though, does make you one. If you could pull your head out of the bottle and sober up, I think you’d have a very different take on life, but you’re a coward. You are a coward and you damn well know it. You know that’s why you’re an alcoholic. And, by the way, as someone who’s grown up around generations of alcoholics, I can tell you that openly admitting to being an alcoholic doesn’t improve the situation. Your drinking and your self-loathing drive everyone away from you who would truly love you. The Crazy Ass Bitch doesn’t love you, by the way, no matter what she may say or you may think. Hell, she might think that’s what love is.

Actually, you know what? It’s not for me to define what love is. It is for me, however, to find love with someone who shares my definition. And that, my dear, will never be you. Even if I never find that individual, at least I can sleep at night knowing that I never settled for less than I believed I deserve. Every single day, I see partnerships that are the very picture of what I want for myself. Every day I am reminded to demand as much for myself, not to stray from searching for what I most want.

I am not beautiful, but I am not a shitty person. I am not famous, but I do not lack in friends who can make me feel otherwise… even if only for a moment. I am socially awkward, but I am always sincere. I am not a millionaire, but I will never have to admit to having betrayed my beliefs. I am at least slightly emotionally imbalanced a majority of the time, but at least I fight every single day to maintain a rational mind and, if I’m really lucky, improve upon it.

The song below isn’t for you. It’s for me, as a reminder of the simplicity and perfection of true partnership.

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