Ha.

It tickles me when I remember why I ended things with you. It is so easy for me to fall back into the trap of wanting familiarity and understanding from someone who knew me so well. But I deserve better than you. I deserve more than you. The fact that you can look at me now and take delight in my misery is proof that it needed to be over. I wish I could find you, look you in the eye and tell you I was raped. I wonder what your reaction would be. Anger? Humor? Condescension? I know you're going to find out sooner or later, I wish I could be there. I want you to know that I've added you to the ever growing list of people that I wish I could hate. And I accomplish it sometimes, in fleeting moments of rage that I long to be able to fall into. To dwell in my anger of what you did to me. But I'm not like that, I never have been; And you know it. That is why you were able to take advantage of me for as long as you did. I can't hate. I forgive too easily. And, ironically, I hate myself for it. My whole life I've gotten screwed, over and over and over again, by people like you. The cycle will never stop. I just have to harden myself.

I have moments where I say things: I say things that I believe deeply and ardently, but they are filled with bitterness and hatred. It never fails to surprise me how broken I really am. I am learning that I will continue to love, to forgive, to get my heartbroken, but nothing surprises me any more. I assume that guys are terrible before they even introduce themselves. I assume that they just want my body. I'm overly protective of my girl friends. Especially the ones I consider naive. I am torn over whether to tell them all I know and disillusion them or just to protect their utopian ignorance. I normally fall for the latter; only because I believe life will teach you what you need to know.