Dear D
It's been over a month since I've written to you on this page.
So much has changed!
A week before the holidays, I was at a party. This guy sat next to me and we talked, a lot. Suddenly he kissed me. It took me by surprise - I hadn't been kissed for 278 days (yes, I've kept count of the days since you last kissed me), and it felt... weird, to be honest. But it also felt very, very releasing. He brought me home since I was pretty drunk and he was gentleman enough to know that I could be raped if I went by public transport, so he hired a taxi. I was pretty impressed by that.
The next day he texted me and asked me out on a date. I agreed. Do you know why? Because I felt lonely. Really lonely. And here's this guy who shows up and likes me and wants to date me. We've been a couple for one month and six days. That's about a tenth of the time I've been your girlfriend. And yet we've done so much more. I've experienced so many more feelings with him than with you.
The original purpose of this blog was to write you letters every now and then, things I can't tell you in person, things I can't tell you because I'd seem obsessive, things I can't tell you because you barely ever write back. You know, you only called me once since the last time we met, and all you said was "sorry, I dialed the wrong number, I'll write to you later". Really? Is that what you tell your long-distance-girlfriend on the first and last time you call her? He called my five times during the two weeks I was away on vacation. Five fucking times.
On one hand, I feel terrible and sinful for cheating on you. On the other hand, I can't help but feeling that he is someone destined to be with me. He doesn't know about you. He never will. I don't want to hurt him, especially because of the feelings he has for me. Before you ask, I don't know what I feel for him. It's not love. I love you. Not that I have the right to say it by now, but it's true. The truth is that I love you so much that it's too much. And I need him to cope with this overload of love that I have for you. He's not a substitute. He's more like a pillow, softening my fall from the cliff of my love for you. Something like that. I realize that I'm using him, but I also really need him. Just as I really need you.
You will never know about this letter. You will never know about how I've betrayed you. You'll never have to experience the pain of knowing all this. It's unfair. But I'm too much of a coward and an egoist to tell you the truth. I want to keep you all to myself despite everything. I'll probably burn in hell for this.
Forgive me. I still love you. And I will always continue to do so. There will always be a part of me that will only exist for you. Always.
/P.
Write.
My dearest, dearest friend, my precious heartbreaker, you who don't know how badly it hurts to be left behind without a warm word or sign of life.
Love me.
