Aching and betrayal; Fear and loathing.
Mood:  blue
Now Playing: Superman - Eminem
So I received this letter from Phantom telling me how she still cares for me and wants to still have contact with me and all that shit. This would have been quaint had it not been that I had recently learned that she has fucked the guy down the road so many times in a week or so than she has fingers and fucking toes to count on, and thats not counting the shit she'd "possibly" done, or has done since, with certain of his friends. Now I have thought through all the details (a hundred fucking times) and have found many areas of that situation that I should be mad or jealous of. The fact that he is one of two jock ass-holes I couldn't stand in high school. Or maybe that I was such a disgusting monster in her eyes that she could barely touch me, however now she's ready to be a random piece of ass at a phone call for this guy and his freinds. Obviously I was wasting my time trying to make only her happy, and instead should have been making myself happy and fucking every girl that wanted me and then dropping them off, at least I'd have the same experience this guy has so that I too would know exactly what to say to get laid and know how to keep them coming back whenever I call them (ok so I'm a little pissed on that part). Basically a number of other break-up horrors that I should be enraged over. However the only thing that really gets me is that I feel like I've been lied to and denied the person she really was. This person filled the stories of her time before me. This person snuck in and made appearances every time I was gone,whether I was out of town, in the ARMY, whatever, whenever I was gone this person appeared. Now its this person who is sending me letters talking about how she still cares for me when she probably just got done fucking this guy's brains out two or three times the night before. And as stupid as it sounds, its not really her fucking this guy 100 fucking times in a week that really bothers me, its why the fuck couldn't she have shown me this person she obviously really is. What was so fucking awful about me that I wasn't good enough to know the real her; and if I was so horrible that she couldn't really be herself around me than why the fuck did she even want to be with me, why did she let me go on trying to make this one person happy when that person was just an illusion. What the fuck kind of sick game is that. When this question has been put to others I usually get something along the lines of: Because she felt like I was in love with a specific person and as long as she acted that way I would stay in love with her. That she doesn't have enough faith in herself to be herself and before I loved her, and now that I'm gone, she has no self respect for herself anymore and that she is acting accordingly. That this is not what she wants to be. It reflects how she feels about herself. Shit I even had someone tell me that the "bootycall" comment in her letter was a sub-consious invitation for me to abuse her (yeah thats a little too deep for me too, drugs have ruined all of our brains). I'm not sure what to make of answers like that. Either way, I feel helpless, betrayed, and pathetic. I don't know what's worse, that she was playing some sick fucking game with me and really wants to be treated like a stupid, easy piece of ass or if she is doing all this as a reflection of how she feels inside now. Both seem pretty fucked to me and I can't begin to figure out how I would handle either of them. This is already more fucking space than I was wanting to devote to this. This was my reply to her letter. I just want her out of my fucking life. I can't fucking go to sleep at night without fighting through the mental images, and graphic scenarios. I'm bombarded with the putrified remixes of every good or bad memory I've ever had with her, all mentally remastered for the optimal disturbing factor. If I could just erase her from my mind, like that movie about Cum-spots on the Mind of Sunkist Oranges or whatever. Cut her the fuck out, maybe I could enjoy every second of my life and not just the ones where I have company or mental distraction. I hate being alone now.