To My Sweetheart on Our Tenth

First and foremost, you don't deserve this. Not this or my thoughts or the place in my chest that feels heavy today, the spot right behind my heart.

Here's what you do deserve, in case you're wanting something: my voice loud and angry in your ears, or the glass of your windshield, your driver-side window, shattered across the front seats of your car.

You are a coward, so mentally and emotionally retarded that I hope one day you will get the help you need. I don't think a hard cock will fix all your problems, but I know you're thinking otherwise.

I can't believe six drinks and a grope was worth ruining nearly ten years with me. Was worth ruining not only our relationship, but our friendship, too. These years made entirely invalid by your selfishness, your years of silence and false commitments.

This is what I wrote last night for you. It is heavily edited, only the parts from the very beginning, because—believe it or not—it actually got worse from there.

And all anxiety was unwarranted; today was not a bad day. I had a good lunch and drank a beer in honor of us, told our story once again to a woman who sat wide eyed and speechless. (It's a long one—have you noticed? Or are you still only presenting your own highly edited version?) I got a buzz, felt like I made a good friend. I got a bonus, a money one. I got a nice smile in the hallway from a woman I see every day, but do not know her name. I'll learn it by asking her. My boss made me laugh a dozen times. The dogs seemed extra-happy to see me, and I got a "just checking in" phone call from mom and dad from their vacation in Florida.

I do not have a bad life, despite what happened, what you did. I think you made me stronger, made me appreciate what's left: my family, the people around me, and the ones 3,000 miles away. You've made me change direction, but I think it's only moving up and out. I can count on both hands the number of people who have told me that now my life can take on any shape I want it to and I look foward to that restructuring.

I miss the phone calls during the day and I miss you at night. I hope that someday soon I won't.

You were described today by a complete stranger as "tragic," and this is the most accurate term I've heard yet. So here's to our tragedy, to our tenth, and to many better years for us both from this moment on.


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