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04 January 2004 @ 09:38 am
Unsent letters  
> I torched your trust, and ran over your feelings.

>I'm not sure where we can go from here, or how. I'm
>tired, hurt, and quite honestly shot. I can't give you
>gifts, or baubles. I can only give you my word, and if
>that is not cherished, then I don't know what else I
>would have.

And I'm not hurt or tired?

So, after the lovely thrashing you administered, followed by dumping me, all you are willing to offer is words on a screen? There's nothing you will do besides that 15 minute phone call when I was in the middle of the salon where I couldn't talk and a couple of emails? After all you said and did, after all you wrote in your journal, after completely overreacting and then tossing me out like so much trash (electronically, no less), you are dumping all the responsibility in my lap and saying 'if you don't take this offering there is nothing further I will do'? That's all what we had is worth?

For someone who supposedly is so great, so compassionate, so proactive, such a great friend and companion, so much better than the average sheep, who talks about how it's so important to stand by people - that's all just talk, huh? It's too much trouble to actually *do* anything, words should be enough.

> If I had one request though it would be that you
> don't carry the words I
> wrote this morning in your wallet. They are not how
> I feel about you, and
> they are not what we had. They are words of anger,
> fustration and fear. If
> you remember something about this relationship,
> please remember that I do
> love you, and I do miss you.

Why, because you are trying to prove somehow that you are better than BritBoy? Because your words should not be with his? Perhaps I *should* carry them in my wallet, along with these. To remind myself of my true worth - nothing more than a few words.

-the redhead-
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