Dear Joe, John, Jack, Harry, Michael, Zach (the name really isn’t important, is it? At the end of the day you’re all interchangeable in a long list of disappointments)
I’d love to sit here and say that you have me convinced, but you don’t. See, the thing about love is that it renders people blind. They’re unable to recognize the blaring-fucking-red-flags waving in their pretty-little-faces.
I’ve been there before, many-a-time, so my judgment remains reserved–hoping you’ll turn out to be someone worthy of her, but as the days go by…I think we both know that’s not going to happen.
Who hasn’t dated a liar? A cheat? An unmotivated moron? The guy who is perpetually late? or broke? or cannot possibly admit to being wrong? The list of scumbaggery is endless.
The question is, why? Why does this continue? Of course, free-will exists. Women make their own choices, and perhaps it can’t be stopped, but I think there’s more to it than that and that’s why I’m writing you this letter.
I think women are too afraid to tell other women what love should look because it’s just so damn subject, but in truth, we all know deep-down what the right kind of love looks like. The good kind. The kind that involves respect, and trust, constructive conversation, kisses on the forehead, and an acceptance of differences.
Again, love is blinding, not the way a bright light is, but rather the way chugging a fifth of whiskey is. It’s stupid-fucking-blurry. You can see, but not straight. Consider it a perpetual state of belligerence.
As a result, she ‘sees’ all of those good-love-things, and maybe they’re there sometimes, but they won’t last. I’m not being pessimistic. I’m not suggesting relationships don’t take work, but a bad seed, is a bad seed. I watch her justify your bullshit time and time again, and for what? What did you do to earn it?
You bitch and moan and swear you’ll never do it again…please. Remember: I’m not in love with you! I don’t even LIKE you. I see through all of it.
I reckon I was there before you, and I’ll reckon I’ll be there after, so there’s comfort in that…but not really, because while I know this about her…you deceived me too. That’s the scariest part isn’t it?
Fooling the parents, fooling the best friend, and then finally, fooling the girl.
Be aware that her ‘happiness’ (however fleeting) is the only reason you’re tolerated.
Who knows? Maybe you’ll prove me wrong. I’m certainly hoping that’s the case.
Just be aware, no one is taking your actions lightly, and no one will be sad to see you go.
Sincerely,
Not Her Keeper, Just Her Best Friend
