I am tired of speaking to myself, to ears stuffed with belligerence and a heart that does not recognize anything true. There is no way to penetrate the delusions that you cling to. So go. Go have what you think think you want, circumscribed by opinions that are not yours but that you adopt for fear of judgment. Go to your ugly, infantile men with their expensive toys, their false piety of which they make a show, and their shiny athletic wear, like something straight out of Idiocracy. Go to your porn perverts, your sado-masochism freaks, your egregious using egotists, and your spoiled trust fund babies. Go to them and tell yourself that they are good, that they really want you, when they just want anyone because they have nothing real to offer but things and control. You are easy for them and available. That is all they care about. YOU do not exist, but you will allow it and adopt whatever they want you to, as you’ve always done. So go. Be a doormat, barely a semblance of a person because someone, somewhere along the line, ruined your conception of what a woman should be. So go marry a new sleazebag. Relocate for them and find they are not whom you thought and you’ve been imprisoned. Go be stuck again. Go hide in your shopping and babying your grown children, ensuring they will be just like their sorry, bigoted, sicko joke of a dad, because that’s all that really matters to you. You did not give them a role model worth a shit. Go to your sports and workouts, obsessions you swear are your own and not someone else’s you adopted.

Stay there. Stay in that cage of fraudulent emotions and limitation for the rest of your life, with no imagination, no real risk of heart, no real self to look at in the mirror. Never admit your sins, your lies, with which you stabbed me. Never acknowledge that I spared you what you did to me. Just keep lying, to yourself and everyone around you. Bask in their feigned applause and disinterested displays of pity. They don’t really care, anymore than you do about their lives, except to covet them. But I take from you all ability to further blame me for your failures, your continued mistakes. They are on you. I did not make you choose unworthy people.

Think what you want of me. It doesn’t matter. I know who I am, unlike you, and I know that, no matter what mistakes I made, how badly I reacted, I was true in my love, my want for you, with no ulterior motive. How I feel will never change, though I cease to speak of you. There will be no more unheard and unfollowed advice, but I have not forgotten and will never forget, no matter how quiet. Don’t believe that your sins are ever forgotten or that I don’t know how far you’ve let yourself fall. The anger, the despair, the longing, the betrayal stay with me always. Never pay your debt. Never have another kind thought about me. Just go to them and try to find what you want in their petulant minds. Go be cavalier and call everything “gay” and think that makes you cool. It makes you crude. But remember that you had a shot at something that could have been better, a shot at, if nothing else, real loyalty, which I have proven now for years, and real love, which has left me, but you chose what you are now stuck with for the rest of your life, a life based in conformity to other people’s edicts for you. It’s never been anything but a suburban fantasy, and that is all it ever will be. Enjoy.