I hope this fucking haunts you for the rest of your life.
I don't know if I'll go through with it or not, because I would roll in my grave knowing you were bad mouthing me to your friends or your new girlfriend (if you ever get one, that is, assuming you don't just leave her after one minor setback) just like you've done with Rylee. I wouldn't be surprised if half the things you told me about her were fabricated or an exaggeration.
I remember when you told me that you had people leave you because you wouldn't "put out." I know what actually happened now. You left them.
I'm not sorry anymore. I'm done apologizing to man children. I'm done justifying every little thing I do or feel. I wanted to have sex with you. It's one of the only things that makes me feel loved, being desired. I was nervous to foster that environment, at first, because I know what that does to normal people. It scares them off. But you encouraged it. I bloomed like a flower in May. You told me all the things you wanted to do, that you wanted to stick your tongue inside me and pound me into the mattress, spread my legs as you slipped it in and grabbed my wrists, give me hickeys where only you can see, pin my arms around my back while you tossed me around and made me feel helpless. I went outside of my comfort zone, because I wanted to do things with you. I shaved and got all pretty and kept all my lost weight and sent you pictures of me fingering myself and you saved them and told me you wished it was you.
Then, you turned around. Told me you were nervous, and didn't like planning things like that. You just wanted to hangout. It's only the second date, you don't want to rush things.
I had just had dental surgery and was already considering cancelling, but I didn't because I wanted to feel loved and do those things with you. Then you turned around, I cancelled and was honest with you, and told you I felt upset. That's why I wanted to come over. YOU invited me over to do that. YOU invited me to stay the night. YOU told me you couldn't wait for Friday to come sooner because YOU just wanted to give me head so bad and finally kiss the freckle in between my legs.
And then you have the audacity to get angry with me and tell me that I crossed a line by getting upset. That I disregarded your boundaries and it reminded you of how Rylee made you feel. You had the balls to insinuate that I was being dramatic, I "made it a whole thing." You think that you're "just not sure we’re what each other are looking for you seem really nice and sweet and it’s cool we had a lot of the same interests but I don’t think we see relationships the same and I’m not sure it would work out for either of us without getting really hurt". [sic]
I don't forgive you, even if you aren't sorry. I don't give a shit that I made you feel guilty. At this point, I'm glad. I spent three hours sobbing, under the influence of hydrocodone, begging you not to leave over something we could just talk about. All you had to do was tell me, and I would've kissed your feet wishing you'd forgive me, because I let people walk all over me like that.
Rylee would threaten to kill herself all the time if you tried to leave? How would it feel if it actually happened? Do you wanna find out?