Somehow I have to forgive you.

I'm not sure what's stopping me. It might be that I don't want to. That I want to stay angry, the way that people want to stay sad when they are, hoping for some kind of catharsis. But it's been two full years since you abandoned me, the purging thing just isn't working.

I thought at first that I just didn't understand why you did it. I think now that was an excuse. I understand well enough. People grow apart all over the world, why shouldn't we have been different? The difference was that I didn't see it coming. There were signs, sure there were. I just wasn't willing to see them. Like that dream you had where I repeatedly raped you and no one came to your aid so you had to knife me to death. And even then my corpse continued to rape you.

At the time you told me that, I was concerned mostly for your quality of sleep, otherwise I was slightly amused. Stupid, Bryan. Stupid.

So here I am now. I've moved on in many ways, but I can't seem to let go of your leaving. As it always was with us, I'm thinking that you didn't understand how completely serious I was about you. Seriously, Beth, if you're not absolutely sure that you want to be with someone for the rest of your life, please do mankind a favor and don't accept his marriage proposal. If for no other reason, than to spare him the pain of returning a ring for 15% of what he bought it for. It's just depressing.

I was serious. And either you weren't serious, or I have an outdated sense of commitment. What does betrothal mean to you? What does living together mean? What does it mean when your boyfriend is willing to work at a convenience store during college so that the two of you can have food to eat, when both of you know that you have more than a few thousand dollars from relatives saved up, and no intention of working?

Here's the arrogant part: you had no idea how good I was for you. I was going to be an amazing husband and father, and you gave up that future so you could go to raves and hook up with strangers and dye your hair every other week.

Was it worth it?

It was to me. I realize now how completely used I was with you. I was like a cute little puppy dog, safe and secure and hardly ever exciting. And every so often you needed excitement. Because you're human, and American, and spoiled.

But you knew I wasn't exciting when you agreed to wear the ring. So I come to the conclusion that you were the one who made the mistake.

I'm really tired of being bitter. And I'm almost genuinely sorry that you felt, a few months ago, that I was worth another try, because you're on crack if you think I'll ever seriously think about even talking to you again. And I can't help but feel sorry for people with addictions.

Please continue to leave me alone. I just needed to say this.