A Letter To The Person Who Led Me On
So we did this dance for a while. I played your game because when this all started, I felt something new with you, hope maybe or even something like love. And in the end, what I feared would happen is exactly what did. You did the very thing you always told me I was crazy for suspecting you’d do. When push came to shove and I finally wanted answers for the questions I’d had — when will we be together? what is holding you back? — you’ve outright rejected me instead of face your own lies. And sure, that’s your prerogative. You are allowed to reject me. I had no problem with that. But it’s the actions leading up the rejection I want you to consider and understand.
You led me on.
You wanted things from me and you knew how I felt about you and you used those feelings and you used me. So I want you to know how I feel now, since you knew how I felt then.
Now? I am mad. I want you to understand that you hurt me. I want you to understand that your actions have consequences. When you make someone think they have a chance with you, when you tell them things that make it seem like you like them or like one day you might be with them, when you make promises that as soon as I do this for you, or fix this in your life, we can be together, those things have consequences.
I did a lot for you, and this isn’t a case of misunderstanding. You knew how I felt about you and you let me listen to you and do you favors and you never had any intention of returning my feelings. And I get it. Maybe I made myself too vulnerable. Maybe I let you in too soon. Maybe I fooled myself, thinking you’d change or you meant everything you said. Because most people, most decent people, do mean the things they say to others, especially the emotional things. But you know, sure. You didn’t and I should have protected myself better.
You can’t treat people this way. It’s selfish and mean. It’s just mean. You can’t know someone considers you special and manipulate them into a one-sided relationship using the hope that one day you will feel the same. Because you knew you’d never feel the same, and you knew how I felt. That is the textbook definition of “leading someone on.” You played my feelings like a chess game, every move deliberate, every check, a source of power.
Maybe you feel powerless. Maybe that’s why you decided to play with me. Because I was there and I was weak. Because I thought you were worth it. And I told you that and you told me to wait for you and you told me to put my life on hold for you and you promised me you’d be mine. And you lied through your teeth.
So I’ve moved on. I moved on not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I want you to know that I was sad and I was hurt and that you knowingly did this to me. I want you to know that so you never treat another person who loves you this way again.
And most importantly, I want you to know that next time, I’ll know better.
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That’s right. I also drive a Ford Aerostar with no windows. It’s practical.
6. Get Blackout
I’ll rest there for as long as you’ll let me, for as long as I can.
Ask yourself, “What am I doing TODAY?”