I’m sorry. I will never be able to bring myself to say it aloud, but I am a cheater. I cheated on you. That is not why we broke up, and I would die rather than have you find out. It eats me alive, J.
Two years ago, I read the texts between you and your friend on how you wanted to cheat on me because I “wasn’t putting out.” And it damaged our relationship from that point on. I had zero trust or faith in you. Even during our highest peaks, I still questioned your loyalty to me because I stood by the common phrase, once a cheater, always a cheater.
And I don’t even know how or why it happened. But he and I clicked, and before I knew it, we were hooking up every other day for a week straight. And I had deep feelings for him. Such deep feelings. But he ghosted me.
And although you had no idea what was going on, when he left, I was stranded with you. And instead of being heartbroken and needing assistance from you, I resented you. And it wasn’t your fault. I just couldn’t look at you knowing I backstabbed you the way I did.
Although we both committed the same wrong, I cannot look at myself in the mirror. I question every day how it happened the way it did. I wish I could take it all back and work towards mending are already-then broken relationship instead of throwing it away.
Before and after my demise, what we held was toxic. A constant battle for pulling emotions out of you and for me to stop trying to change who you were was not a way to live. With the smallest sexual connection, the weakest emotional connection and practically a nonexistent romantic connection, what we had is better to lay to rest, regardless of what I’ve done.
But regardless, I’m sorry. Please know I hate myself every day. And looking back, I would change it all. I could never bring myself to do it again, whether that be you or someone else.