I broke up with you 8 weeks ago. I knew it needed to be done but I didn’t feel really emotional at the time. I even let you pretend that you were breaking up with me, because I knew it would be the easiest way to let you go. Last week I realized you were completely insane, and really nasty to me. You picked on the things I was most sensitive about to make me feel horrible, and kept making me feel horrible because that’s the way you operate. You thrive on conflict and shitty feelings. You knew with the hard time I was having with work and all the deaths in my family that I was vulnerable and you fucking exploited it. I just want to punch you. That was 7 months of hell.

When we went to the formal with all your friends we were dressed so well and looked so great, we got so many complements. But you’re so fucked in the head that you can’t stand something nice like that so you told everyone that I was scared to introduce you to my parents and that I was “ashamed of being gay,” which isn’t even true. You picked on me until I cried that night. Nasty bitch.

I am happy I didn’t introduce you to my parents though. When my grandfather died you were incapable of providing any sort of emotional support. You wanted me to drive you to fucking IKEA the night after i buried him, after a weeklong ordeal, so you could pick up some faggoty decoration for your stupid apartment. When I told you that I couldn’t you picked on me for a while and then when I got upset YOU needed to be the fucking histrionic center of attention and you started crying because you felt horrible when your DOG died ten years prior. You motherfucking idiot!

Oh, and when I broke a glass at your stupid poker party at 3 am you told me I was an alcoholic because it ran in my family. This after the alcoholic just fucking died. Then you brought up the broken wine glass ten times, even though I bought you a new set of wine glasses the week before. Pick pick pick.

You would eat chicken when you went out with your friends, but with my friends you would pretend to be a vegan. One time in baltimore you faked having a stomach virus to be the center of attention. I knew you didn’t have a fucking stomach virus, you didn’t even go the right direction in the restaurant to go to the bathroom. I could smell the fucking cigarettes on you. You were so fucking clingy in public, in the fucking rest stops and the train stations. I can pass as a normal professional member of society while in a highway rest stop but you look like a low-class prostitute and you talk like a queen. (Why do you talk like that , anyway? ) Then that overexpression and hanging on in public turns to coldness and ” i don’t want to do anything tonight ” in private. Histrionic Personality Disorder! Or maybe you’re a male borderline.

You got me fucking punched on the street because of your drama. That was the first time I was punched in my adult life! And the second worst thing you ever did was make up some stupid lie about my sister littering. What the hell was that about? I know she didn’t litter. I never said anything negative about your sister, even though she did horrible things to your parents and was in a mental institution. I’m sure you were jealous but you call my sister a promiscuous litterbug? Fucktard. Don’t insult my family.

And the worst thing, and still more inexplicable, was how you tried to make me fuck you without a condom. You threw out all the condoms i brought multiple times, you never had lubricant, you wanted to make it a fucking game. You’ll get sick one day because someone sick will fuck you without a condom. I am never dating a lawyer again.