Letter to My Love,
In the past.
When I stopped partying on Sunday I was finally able to look back on the weekend and think about how pathetic I was.
As I was driving downtown to meet the guys for happy hour on Friday, I heard the song “-----” by Maroon Five and was reminded of the text message that you sent me a while back.
"Sugar, Maroon Five- this song is sure to unfuck your morning."
This made me miss you terribly and I was overcome with pain and sadness that required an immediate and large quantity of liquor. Fortunately for me John had already purchased a bottle, so I was able to kill half of it before stepping off to happy hour with John, Chow, and Bud.
Happy hour went amazing, because John and I sat next to each other with our arms around each other and laughed so hard like little kids that everyone in the place was certain we were a gay couple in love, and were envious of our laughter and friendship. Several people came over to ask us what we were laughing about. We went from there to a dinner at a nice restaurant with three girls from Chow’s work whose personalities were so terrible I wanted to light them on fire. Literally. I haven’t met girls who sucked that bad in a long time. But lately, everyone who isn’t you sucks… Anyways, I purposely sat on the opposite side of the table to be as far from them as possible. I would like to reiterate how fucking gay I feel on a daily basis.
Bud invited them to dinner, like a dumbass, just to look cool, and every time they stepped away from the table he would say "oh my God they suck so bad! What was I thinking?" Then when the girls came back to the table he would resume trying to fuck one of them.
I looked across the restaurant to the other side of the bar at a couple eating together, I don't remember exactly what the girl did but it reminded me of you and I felt like I was kicked in the stomach. I literally winced in pain and lost my breath, then looked away, embarrassed that someone saw the look on my face. Then I took a bunch of deep breaths and tried to get my air back. I started hyperventilating, and no matter how hard I tried to focus on a deep breath I couldn’t take one. I felt tears welling up so I ran outside to get some air and get my mind right. I looked at a few pictures I had of you and considered texting you, but I held out. I waited outside and fought tears until John came out to look for me. I told him I was fine and that I just wanted to get away from girls and hang out with him at Chow’s house. We walked back into the restaurant with our arms around each other and continued giggling like girls. I am 100% certain that John was the reason I did not have an enormous meltdown earlier in the night. I stopped drinking because I don’t like drinking when I'm sad, it's a recipe for disaster.
I tried to break away from the group with John to go back to Chow’s house to sit on the couch and talk, but Bud and Chow wouldn’t let me leave. They made me come with them to a bar. When we got to the bar I was scared to death of seeing you, and I literally walked through the bar with my head down and my eyes on the ground. A few drinks later I got silly with Bud and John, my mood improved, and we danced together. Just us, four guys in a circle. Not gay at all.
My mood was great until your roommate came up to me, I’ve already written about that so no need to repeat myself. But needless to say my night was over. I walked several miles to my car with tears in my eyes and drove home half hysterical while leaving you a voice memo. It was pathetic. I woke up on Saturday and began writing to you, its my therapy.
As I was writing to you John called me and called me out for being the bitch that I was. He said, “I know that you’re sitting on your couch right now looking at pictures of --------, or writing letters to her like a fucking bitch, probably crying to yourself and being disgusting and pathetic. So get the fuck up off the couch and come hang out with me.”
This is why I love John with all my heart, and why I need to be around more Marine buddies.
He forced me to hang out with him and drink all fucking day. He knows me so well that he knew I was sitting at home writing letters to you, and he knew that I needed to be around him for my own well being.
We had a great time, just us, talking, laughing, lifting weights drunk, running on the boardwalk drunk, and dipping in the ocean. Even Brett came down to join us and we had a blast together. We all passed out on the same couch that night.
I felt a little bit better on Sunday after talking with Brett, but my day became ruined when I saw a picture of you out at the bar on somebody else's Instagram. Just seeing your beautiful face killed me. I love who you are, I love your face, I love your body, I love the way you dress conservatively, I love your morals, I love your standards, I love the way you conduct yourself, I love your goals and your dreams, and I want to be a part of them. So naturally, I put myself in a pill induced coma just to make the pain go away and slept for 12 hours. Thank God for that.
The pain of not having you in my life is only getting worse. Logic and reason tells me that I need to be single at this point in my life, focus on my goals, my family, and friends, and not worry about being a good partner to one person, not worry about marriage, kids, and forever; but my love for you tells me I need you and cannot live without you. I debate this topic once every 7 minutes.
I know you think I wanted to be single to continue chasing girls, but we’ve been broken up for months, and I haven’t touched a soul. Not one, and I've had chances, beleeeee dat. It’s the longest I’ve gone without a woman getting my nut off, outside of my seven months in Afghanistan. So clearly, I’m not living the stereotypical San Diego single life that you presumed I would. I’m sure you need to convince yourself that I’m out whoring around to help you get over me, but no, I’m still living in my grandma’s sunroom in a senior citizen community. Completely pussyless, with no internet dating profiles, and no one I'm interested in. I spend the majority of EVERY day with an 84 year old woman who barely speaks English.
It's worth mentioning that I have not allowed myself to love you anywhere near as much as you have loved me, so if I am feeling this way now, I cannot imagine what would've happened if I let myself completely love you. I tried to explain, but maybe I didn't:
The thought of letting myself fall completely for you is terrorizing. Once I let myself go I don’t have the ability to control myself and to control my emotions. I would give up anything for you, I would throw my self-respect in the garbage just to appease you, I would give up my dreams, my friends, and my goals if you weren’t happy with them. Once I let myself go I am vulnerable beyond belief. This is very scary, please understand me. I will completely lose my sense of self, and replace it with you and us.
I literally promised myself years ago I would not do that again, and that’s why we’re in the situation that we are right now. My sense of self is incredibly important towards reaching my goals, and I don’t have the ability yet to control my emotions when I fall completely.
Why the hell do you think that I am --, and the last time I was vulnerable was at 19? It’s scarred me for life.
If I let myself fall for you completely I would give my life for you without hesitation any second of the day. If you needed an organ I would give you all of mine to keep you alive. Even if that meant leaving my family members, I wouldn’t consider them for a second, my life would be sacrificed for yours, out of love. Like I said, scary.
I am scared of falling completely and selflessly in love, please forgive me.
With confused love,
Donny
In the past.
When I stopped partying on Sunday I was finally able to look back on the weekend and think about how pathetic I was.
As I was driving downtown to meet the guys for happy hour on Friday, I heard the song “-----” by Maroon Five and was reminded of the text message that you sent me a while back.
"Sugar, Maroon Five- this song is sure to unfuck your morning."
This made me miss you terribly and I was overcome with pain and sadness that required an immediate and large quantity of liquor. Fortunately for me John had already purchased a bottle, so I was able to kill half of it before stepping off to happy hour with John, Chow, and Bud.
Happy hour went amazing, because John and I sat next to each other with our arms around each other and laughed so hard like little kids that everyone in the place was certain we were a gay couple in love, and were envious of our laughter and friendship. Several people came over to ask us what we were laughing about. We went from there to a dinner at a nice restaurant with three girls from Chow’s work whose personalities were so terrible I wanted to light them on fire. Literally. I haven’t met girls who sucked that bad in a long time. But lately, everyone who isn’t you sucks… Anyways, I purposely sat on the opposite side of the table to be as far from them as possible. I would like to reiterate how fucking gay I feel on a daily basis.
Bud invited them to dinner, like a dumbass, just to look cool, and every time they stepped away from the table he would say "oh my God they suck so bad! What was I thinking?" Then when the girls came back to the table he would resume trying to fuck one of them.
I looked across the restaurant to the other side of the bar at a couple eating together, I don't remember exactly what the girl did but it reminded me of you and I felt like I was kicked in the stomach. I literally winced in pain and lost my breath, then looked away, embarrassed that someone saw the look on my face. Then I took a bunch of deep breaths and tried to get my air back. I started hyperventilating, and no matter how hard I tried to focus on a deep breath I couldn’t take one. I felt tears welling up so I ran outside to get some air and get my mind right. I looked at a few pictures I had of you and considered texting you, but I held out. I waited outside and fought tears until John came out to look for me. I told him I was fine and that I just wanted to get away from girls and hang out with him at Chow’s house. We walked back into the restaurant with our arms around each other and continued giggling like girls. I am 100% certain that John was the reason I did not have an enormous meltdown earlier in the night. I stopped drinking because I don’t like drinking when I'm sad, it's a recipe for disaster.
I tried to break away from the group with John to go back to Chow’s house to sit on the couch and talk, but Bud and Chow wouldn’t let me leave. They made me come with them to a bar. When we got to the bar I was scared to death of seeing you, and I literally walked through the bar with my head down and my eyes on the ground. A few drinks later I got silly with Bud and John, my mood improved, and we danced together. Just us, four guys in a circle. Not gay at all.
My mood was great until your roommate came up to me, I’ve already written about that so no need to repeat myself. But needless to say my night was over. I walked several miles to my car with tears in my eyes and drove home half hysterical while leaving you a voice memo. It was pathetic. I woke up on Saturday and began writing to you, its my therapy.
As I was writing to you John called me and called me out for being the bitch that I was. He said, “I know that you’re sitting on your couch right now looking at pictures of --------, or writing letters to her like a fucking bitch, probably crying to yourself and being disgusting and pathetic. So get the fuck up off the couch and come hang out with me.”
This is why I love John with all my heart, and why I need to be around more Marine buddies.
He forced me to hang out with him and drink all fucking day. He knows me so well that he knew I was sitting at home writing letters to you, and he knew that I needed to be around him for my own well being.
We had a great time, just us, talking, laughing, lifting weights drunk, running on the boardwalk drunk, and dipping in the ocean. Even Brett came down to join us and we had a blast together. We all passed out on the same couch that night.
I felt a little bit better on Sunday after talking with Brett, but my day became ruined when I saw a picture of you out at the bar on somebody else's Instagram. Just seeing your beautiful face killed me. I love who you are, I love your face, I love your body, I love the way you dress conservatively, I love your morals, I love your standards, I love the way you conduct yourself, I love your goals and your dreams, and I want to be a part of them. So naturally, I put myself in a pill induced coma just to make the pain go away and slept for 12 hours. Thank God for that.
The pain of not having you in my life is only getting worse. Logic and reason tells me that I need to be single at this point in my life, focus on my goals, my family, and friends, and not worry about being a good partner to one person, not worry about marriage, kids, and forever; but my love for you tells me I need you and cannot live without you. I debate this topic once every 7 minutes.
I know you think I wanted to be single to continue chasing girls, but we’ve been broken up for months, and I haven’t touched a soul. Not one, and I've had chances, beleeeee dat. It’s the longest I’ve gone without a woman getting my nut off, outside of my seven months in Afghanistan. So clearly, I’m not living the stereotypical San Diego single life that you presumed I would. I’m sure you need to convince yourself that I’m out whoring around to help you get over me, but no, I’m still living in my grandma’s sunroom in a senior citizen community. Completely pussyless, with no internet dating profiles, and no one I'm interested in. I spend the majority of EVERY day with an 84 year old woman who barely speaks English.
It's worth mentioning that I have not allowed myself to love you anywhere near as much as you have loved me, so if I am feeling this way now, I cannot imagine what would've happened if I let myself completely love you. I tried to explain, but maybe I didn't:
The thought of letting myself fall completely for you is terrorizing. Once I let myself go I don’t have the ability to control myself and to control my emotions. I would give up anything for you, I would throw my self-respect in the garbage just to appease you, I would give up my dreams, my friends, and my goals if you weren’t happy with them. Once I let myself go I am vulnerable beyond belief. This is very scary, please understand me. I will completely lose my sense of self, and replace it with you and us.
I literally promised myself years ago I would not do that again, and that’s why we’re in the situation that we are right now. My sense of self is incredibly important towards reaching my goals, and I don’t have the ability yet to control my emotions when I fall completely.
Why the hell do you think that I am --, and the last time I was vulnerable was at 19? It’s scarred me for life.
If I let myself fall for you completely I would give my life for you without hesitation any second of the day. If you needed an organ I would give you all of mine to keep you alive. Even if that meant leaving my family members, I wouldn’t consider them for a second, my life would be sacrificed for yours, out of love. Like I said, scary.
I am scared of falling completely and selflessly in love, please forgive me.
With confused love,
Donny