"I Thought You Said You Loved Me." "Aw, Baby, That Was Just Pillowtalk."

I had to use that quote. I just had to. If I'm not mistaken, it's from the movie, The Evil Dead.

But anyway.

I had to use that particular quote because it describes a situation that I have escaped (?), but have not healed from yet. It ended simply. He treated me in the way I didn't wish to be treated, and I left him. Hanging. I tried to just forget it, but it's nagging me each time he calls and I let the phone ring or hit the Ignore button on my cellular phone. I delete his voicemails. I know what he will want if I pick up or call him back. He will choose to call me every derogatory term in the book and demand an explaination as to why I "fucked him over." Being the cunt that he is, he doesn't realize he's the one who fucked me over. Numerous times.

Mike is three years older than me and very smart. Smart, in the textbook sense. In the love sense, he's as dumb as a doornail. He wasn't necessarily the best-looking man I've dated. I went straight for personality. Which was fine.

Initially, we were friends for three years before anything ever happened. And I don't remember what sparked the cunt in me to fall for him. Which I don't like not knowing why I even cared about him in the first place.

We dived head-first into becoming lovers. It wasn't an open relationship. He never told me what he wanted exactly. Alot of things were left up in the air. For just a little while. We would be lying in bed and he would say the damnedest things.

"There's this girl who lives in this town, about 30 miles north of here. I want to drive up there next week and fuck her."

This is where I woul become dumbstruck and utter something like, "Huh?"

"I'd like you to go with me. We can have a threesome."

Okay, I guess Mike doesn't understand that I most certainly straight and want nothing to do with females in that department. I played in the minors, but never went pro. It's not something I enjoyed. End of story. I had explained to him this and things were fine for a little while again. And then another conversation would arrise after another intense session of passion.(Or another round of sex. Whichever you prefer to call it.)

"I'm going to see this girl who lives in Allentown and fuck her."

"Why?" Another moment where I can't find something to say.

"Why not? You and I, we're not dating. We're just fuck buddies."

"...But I'm in love with you." The first time I ever told him.

"Well, we can't really do anything about that, now can we. You're going to go into one of your depressed moods if I mention another girl, aren't you?"

"Mike, I love you." I repeat myself.

"That's fine, but I don't want to have to worry about feeling guilty over you when I'm fucking another girl. I'd apprechiate it if you just accepted this."

The conversation continues. He tells me he loves me as a friend. For whatever reason, I hang on. Little shreds of hope, making me believe one day he'd want to be with me. Well, fuck that, eh?

He went over some girl's house. Fucked her. Told me all the intimate details. I became really depressed, cried alot. When I would cry, he would apologize. Eventually, it got to a point where he told me, "Your tears don't work on me anymore. I don't hold any sympathy for you." Because it's perfectly alright for my heart to feel like it's in a meat grinder every time you share your Vagina Monologues with me, right? I'm in the wrong for ever believing I meant more to you than just a roll in the sack. Stupid me.

One day, I got fed up and told him off. His reply? "You know, everytime you pull shit like this, and I'm so close to being in a relationship with you, I pull out, because you're unreasonable. You just won't accept that I'm going to fuck other girls."

This was the day I severed all contact with him. I pushed any and all feelings in the back of my mind and just tried to forget him. It doesn't work. I have to have my little time to grieve, heal, move on. There are other, greater or lesser cunts like him, who have ripped my heart out and fed it to me. But they shall come at a later date. I've written too much already. This post wasn't supposed to be this long.

All I can do is be grateful I found LIAC. I have no where else to express myself and I like all of you already, from all the posts I've read so far. Thanks.