Dear Philosoraptor,

I know you want to get back together. But I will never be in a relationship with you again. It still stings when I think of all the good times we had together, but when I think of the bad times, I burn red hot.

I know you think that we’re not together anymore because I can’t handle conflict. Maybe you’re right. I can’t handle yelling at you one more time to wipe down the counters, take out the trash, contribute to groceries, maybe even (gasp) help with overhead. I got tired of being yelled at for making you an extra sandwich, for buying a fancy vacuum cleaner with my own money, for cleaning the house, for paying bills, for being kind to the cashier, for being in a good mood, for helping your mom do the dishes, for getting your cousin that we were staying with a tin of cookies and a box of chocolates. I didn’t even understand why these actions needed to be defended. I couldn’t handle defending you to my family, who don’t understand why I singlehandedly took care of every chore and bill. The truth was I had no defense – I thought I wasn’t good enough for someone to contribute positively to my life.

I know you think we’re not together because you told me that you wanted to see other people. Because I’m not forgiving of your momentary lapse in judgement that day one week before Christmas (after I had spend hundreds of dollars buying everyone in your extended family gifts) when you confessed that you weren’t sexually attracted to me anymore. That you had felt that way for months, but you let your grandparents pay for our engagement party anyways. That not only were you not sexually attracted to me anymore, but that you should keep staying in my house, eating my food, while I work and you get a little something on the side. I guess you think I just should have been cool with that.

You want to know the real reason I will never take you back? Because those two reasons were only the beginning.

You are a cheap bastard. Which isn’t the worst thing in the world if it was only with your money, except that you were also cheap with your love, affection, time and energy. You were a miser with with happiness, stingy with gratitude, and a grinch with kindness. You drained my life force and offered nothing back.

You deliberately cut me down, humiliated me, and tried to control every aspect of my life. You cried when I went to workout and shouted at me that I was abandoning you, just like your dad. You yelled at me for gaining weight when I stopped working out. You told me you only wanted couples friends. When we made a couple friend, you yelled at me for not having my own friends, and made me cry in a restaurant by making me feel worthless. You punished me by telling inappropriate jokes and getting VERY drunk at my family’s get togethers, because you hated being forced to contribute to my family in any way, even if it was just your time. You told me my cooking tasted like cat food. You actually made me think that I was crazy, that my poor self esteem was my fault, that I needed a therapist, just in case I had any self confidence left.

You are a parasite..You feed off of the hard work of others. You draw power from misery, and wear it like a shroud. It wasn’t a final straw that broke my back, it was a goddamn anvil. When I lost you, I finally found myself.

Now I have someone who wants to build me up. He meets me in the middle and pays (maybe even more) than half the shared bills. He tells me I’m beautiful. Everyday. He loves my cooking, and helps me all the time. When I was with you, I thought men were the issue. It turns out it was just you.

I really hope that you find contentment. Some Yogi, somewhere, explained that break ups are a gift from the universe, an opportunity to grow. I do owe you thanks – you taught me what I needed in a partner. I needed peace. I needed balance. I needed equality. I needed compassion. I needed love. You gave me this knowledge and had you not treated me the way you did, if you had not withheld your love, I would never have learned how to receive love. So thank you.

I think you need to learn to appreciate things when you have them. I admit, I love listening to you beg, but the truth is, you have a lesson to take away. You have to give gratitude to feel grateful. You have to give commitment to receive commitment. You have to give love to get love. The anger in your voice tells me you have a long and arduous path ahead, and I’m so grateful I’m not a part of it.

Learn how to give. It’ll change your life. You’ve already changed mine, even if its not the way you hoped.

Goodbye. I might still love you, but I can’t give you love anymore. I have someone else to give it to now. Someone who loves me back.

Sincerely,

Jessibird