From Gray Lamb to White Lamb

From Gray Lamb to White Lamb

From Gray Lamb to White Lamb

Achille, I know you no longer go on social media – hell, you probably no longer go on the internet no more – and will never see this – but I don’t care. I’m not writing this for you. I’m writing this for my own self. I just needed to write this somewhere where it was you, if that makes sense. And this is the only way I can do it now. 

I had a bad day today and got made fun of. I was talking to someone on Tinder who I thought was a girl and turned out to be a guy, and he laughed at me, saying you’re kidding for actually daring to think you had a chance to be with someone. You! 24 and still a virgin! No experience! Who would want someone like you? Nowadays we want someone who knows what they are doing in bed! And so he laughed and laughed at me until I unmatched.

And then, Achille, I got this desperate need to text you, and tell you, “Kitten, I had a really bad day today.” I’ve had some horrible moments ever since you left, way worse than this one, and not a single time did I get the urge to text you. I haven’t been needing you. I don’t know why this specific moment triggered this urge that I thought long-dead.

Guess I’m a fool. I’ve always been a fool. A couple weeks after we first played, you went on a date with that nameless person, you told all of our common friends you were going on dates with them – but never told them about me. In so many years of us dating you never even told me your state or middle name. Looking back, it was so clear you were never serious about our relationship, always lying when you talked about how you wanted to get married, always lying how you wanted to meet up since you kept finding new reasons to postpone it.

Achille. You never intended to actually respect me as your partner, gaslighting me into thinking I was being clingy and possessive for getting upset at you for cancelling our dates last minute, when in fact, it’s a normal reaction! And no, it’s not normal to always cancel dates last minute, like you tried to convince me! It’s not normal to avoid labels to the point at which your partner has no idea whether you’re in a relationship or not! It’s not normal to threaten to break up with them if they don’t stop asking you to reject the guy that you don’t want to date! And no, honesty in a relationship is not just my personal preference – it’s a basic necessity if you respect your partner at all!

It’s not normal to project your ex on me, and since your ex pressured you to come out, to imagine that I’m telling you to come out just like she did – but I never did it! You projected her on me so much that now I doubt you ever even saw the real me. I was a rebound, most likely.

You pressured me into staying and helping your mental health when I said it was hurting me, but as soon as helping me seemed to make you upset, you left – my mental health didn’t matter, only yours. How dare you try to stain the name of love by claiming that whatever you felt was love? Love isn’t using the other person until you get bored. Love is not just taking, it’s also giving, but you only ever took and never gave.

You were an absolute waste of time. It’s easy for you to say you have no regrets because this relationship gave you exactly what you want from relationships – using someone as validation, free therapist, and a sex toy until you get bored of them, and then leaving them behind. Why would you regret it when you got everything you wanted?

I, however, look for respect and love in relationships, which I didn’t get from you, Achille. I could have spent those four years focusing on someone who actually puts in effort (no, saying, “I’m putting effort” and then doing literally nothing does NOT qualify as effort), someone who shares the same goals with me, someone who doesn’t lie about what they want from their partner long-term – but since you at first lied, and later didn’t let me go because your ego demanded that I stay committed to you even while you’re not committed to me (“I “bullied” you because I thought you cared about your friends and comics more than me!” – how else did you think breakups work? You wanted to keep the cake and eat it, to not commit to me but keep me committed to you) – now four years got wasted and I’m getting laughed at on Tinder for not being experienced IRL.

Knowing you, you’re probably already dragging down your next victim. It’s easy for the conveniently attractive people like you. I know what you would say to that, all the toxically positive bullshit about me being beautiful and denying my struggles with getting dates, but, Achille, I want you to go on the internet and read stories from the people who have lost 50+ pounds – about how differently strangers treated them before and after the weight loss, and when you read that, maybe you would realize how leaps and bounds easier you’re having it with love than me. And no, your toxic positivity bullshit was never bettering my eating disorder, rather making it worse. 

It hurts me knowing I will never get the answer to this. It hurts me knowing that you will never read it. It hurts me knowing that if you do read it and answer, it will probably be another bunch of justifications and excuses, and attempts to convince me that you did all of this unwillingly, that your BPD demons forced you and you had no free will in hurting me, or that I’m not trying hard enough to move on.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Seeing how quickly you move on, I’m probably just something you don’t even think of anymore, and if you do, you act like I was the toxic incel that can’t take a rejection and leave – but when I did try to leave, you harmed yourself, you did everything to manipulate me into coming back, and then told me it was my free will to return and I was free to leave, but when I tried to leave, you stopped me again, until it no longer amused you. But by the time it no longer amused you, I was too broken to actually leave. Or maybe it stopped amusing you because you finally broke me too much for me to leave? You couldn’t get your sadistic kicks anymore, so it was time to find the next victim.

It hurts. I want an reply from you. I know I won’t get it. I know I must not expect a reply from you. I know if you read this, it’s just flattering your enormous ego, and that’s it. (Did you know that NPD is inherited? Don’t forget your father.) It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

Kitten, I am hurting. The white lamb trampled over the gray lamb’s heart and left it alone to bleed, and strolled away, and never looked back. For Mary had a little lamb, but only one. A little lamb, not little lambs. Little lamb, only one. Not two. The gray lamb was always meant as a sacrifice, and the white lamb decided that the gray lamb must be sacrificed for its sake.

Did you know that Lithuanian seasons start on the first of every third month? Summer starts on June 1st, autumn on September 1st, winter on December 1st, spring on March 1st. Not on 21st / 22nd, like in America. This is why we had some confusion every time seasons changed.

– the one you used to call Caramel, or Gray Lamb, or Kit, or Fir Tree


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