Why like this?
You’ve had ample opportunity, and you’ve taken none of it.
So you hid for a while behind the pseudonym, knowing only I would know who you were. Now you’re not hiding, and I wonder what’s changed with that, but only in passing.
Go ahead and spit out your venom. Spew it out, as much as you can, at me, at the world, at everything in your path. You know, somehow you know that the only real target is the one you won’t acknowledge. It’s not me you hate; or maybe it is. Maybe you never could handle what I tried to give you. Maybe to you, it was too little, or not enough, or too late, or too soon, or God knows what.
I gave you everything, and we’ve been through this before. I gave you everything. For a while, that was more than enough, and then it wasn’t. You found your demon queen in the bottom of a bottle and I couldn’t then and won’t now compete with her. But this…this is MINE.
Contribute if you want, or don’t. If you want to talk to me, then talk to me. But if all you’re going to do is puke out meaningless crap, then why bloody bother? You used to be better than that. You used to be the sort of man who said what needed to be said. I don’t know who you’ve become. I don’t think you do, either.
It’s time for you to stop. You need to get sober. You need to smarten the hell up. We’ve ALL been dealt a shitty hand at some point, some of us more than others. There was nothing I could say to you then that would make you change, and I will admit that I thought at the time, the night we held each other all night long and knew it was over, I thought maybe you’d beat it. Maybe you’d quit. Maybe you’d get sober and we could try again. FFS, it’s not about me. It’s never been about me; don’t you realize that? I mean, sure, this space, this bournal, this is about me, and it gets to be, because **I write it**.
But it didn’t work. I couldn’t help you. I can’t help you, and you don’t want my help. No one can help you but you. Do you want that? I will do everything I can to help you be sober, but I won’t dance like this.
I’ve said it before, but it bears saying again: I could never love you enough for both of us. I tried. You tried too, but she always got in the way. And she always will, as long as you give everything to her.
So now, I’m asking you to stop trying to be hurtful. Stop being an ass.