You’d obviously thought it through properly, you’d rounded it down gently by text, and then you had me meet you “for a chat” …I’m not stupid, I knew what to expect, but I didn’t know why, and still don’t. My stuff was in a yellow carrier bag at the front door when I arrived, it didn’t take long.
As I was leaving, I tried asking why, and as you sat on the stairs crying, I thought how pathetic you looked, so timelessly sad, and your mouth turned down at the corners like some kind of blubbering trout. As I pulled up the door behind me, and stepped onto the street, the first word from my mouth was “dick” and looking back now I’m pretty sure I was right, but I did not know that at the time, not until you sent me that really freaking bizarre letter a couple of days after.
See that’s what I need to tell you John, that letter was such an insight into your character that it sped up my “bouncing back” (as you called it) to about 45 seconds. Now if you had told me THAT story at the beginning of our relationship (- the story about how you lied to and led on some poor lass for years, right up to the church door!) then for sure I would have left your glutinous, ignorant, uneducated, unmotivated ass way before even our first scrabble game. Instead you feed me manipulative BS about how fragile you are, and how hurt your poor heart is; well next time you want to open up about how f’d up you are to a brand new girlfriend, I suggest you tell her about the wedding blow-out story instead… if you want to fill her in and “let her know what she’s taking on.”
And stop playing the victim you idiot, it’s like your 14 or something.