6 years. 6 motherfucking years. What the hell. I had always figured we'd work it out. I chalked up your alcoholism, selfishness, infidelity, lying and depression to personality quirks that would work themselves out as you matured, despite the obvious contention that you had four years on me. I genuinely loved you and despite everything, I know you loved me too. I think I've learned that while you can't control who you love, you sure as hell can control whether or not you allow yourself to stay with them.
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But 6 years kid. That's really what pisses me off the most. And we're not talking just any 6 years. 19-25. Those are my prime fucking years. Do you know how many times I shot down a sweet, charming, intelligent girl in line at starbucks. Or shunned the advances of the admittedly moronic but still dam sexy hipster girls at Estelle's. Oh, and that INCREDIBLE chick who I bought the car from and was nearly floored by the instant chemistry. Fuck yes, I took note of those situations and countless others. But the difference between you and I is that I have the character and morality to honor my word and I was faithful. In 6 years, not once did I so much as even slip.
Where is your character? You're comming up fast on 30.....you still drink until you pass out on the weekends. Your writing has been suffering and quickly sliding down hill for nearly two years now. You haven't been published in 6 months. You're starting to look weathered and rapidly approaching the stereotypical "bar whore" look. Honestly, I'm not saying this to hurt you. Granted I'm pissed. I really am. In my fucking bed? Seriously? You have your own fucking place? What was it, for the thrill? And then you have the nerve to call me an animal when I take a few swings at the guy after he threatens me in my own home? I bet he didn't seem quite so sexy laying on the floor of my bedroom crying about calling the police while holding his broken nose. Nice choice in men, gives me a reason to do some self reflection. And you wonder why I would never fuck you without a condom....
This life you've chosen. It's beyond destructive. And I feel sorry for you. I truly hope you get it together one day. You're talented, beautiful and deep, deep, deep, deep down.....somewhat of a decent person. But as for us. Not a chance.
So here's how this is going to work. I know we're both strong willed but kid, you know I always end up with the upper hand in life.
1) Your "perceived" infiltration into my social circles is hereby null and void. Because it's over (and I mean over) I can finally say, everyone hated you. You were rude, obnoxious, pretentious and trendy. Your intelligence is not an "excuse-all." Cutting people down shouldn't be a hobby. Don't call ANYONE, or do the usual "invite yourself" anywhere. Trust me, they won't be calling you. I've been hearing for 5 years how I need to leave you. In fact, we're having a party tomorrow and I fully plan on getting laid. If by chance, we stumble into each-other somewhere....YOU WILL LEAVE, immediately.
2) You will Fedex via Priority Overnight, first thing Monday morning, the following:
a) all my LP's
b) all documents I have saved on your computer (even though I have copies you plagiarizing bitch)
c) three shirts, two pairs of jeans, countless socks & boxers - no pervy you can't keem them,
d) my training gloves & heavy bag gloves
e) my ipod
f) my ideas notebook
g) any clippings you've made of my stories or articles (plagiarizing bitch)
3) the tiffany's ring - fucking keep it. I'd sell it and get a high class whore just to spite you anyway.
4) You may no longer speak to any member of my family. End of story. I know you and my mom are chummy, not anymore. she's getting the same talk. but in a much nicer way.
5) you are barred from the following establishments due to my usual patronage: the uptown barnes and noble, the green mill, danny's, club foot, estelle's, the lincoln tap and the zebra lounge. All the other common places are fair game, but please note the last sentence of stipulation #1
5 simple things and everything remains copacetic.
and why will you do all these things? especially when you're about the most vindictive and drama craving individual I know.
Because despite all the craziness we were extremely compatible in the bedroom. And hell, dare I go out on a limb and admit that maybe you were even just a tad kinkier than me? No doubt your subconscious recognized the fact that I was the more trustworthy of the two and hence the logic behind myself being the "keeper" of our visual record of our bedroom activities. thousands of them. and oddly enough, most of them are of you. of the two of us, I'm the one more comfortable with their body, I could give a shit if one of your friends sees my my cock or my ass. Hell, if I get drunk enough one night, they might just see it anyway. I know Amy has been bugging you for a threesome for years, something tells me she might just be a phone call away.
But let's keep this civil. No need for threats or anything of the sort. I just want my shit back and never, I MEAN NEVER, to see or hear from you again.
6 months from now, if all the above conditions are met within a reasonable time frame you have my word I will delete them all. And my word.....well, we both know it's my bond.
Good luck to you kid. Hope you get it together.
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