I am the cunt
Andrew taught me how to love, and he taught me how to hate with passion.
While he slept with everything in a skirt, I watched, and feigned a smile, and pretended I was cool with it. When his girlfriend came out with us, I befriended her and behaved in the appropriate way. I commented on what a perfect relationship they shared, how 'adorable' she was, fucked him the next day, and made myself scarce when they needed their 'alone time'. Barf. 'What a fucking saint'.
I hugged her when he hit her, and consoled her when he was cruel. I actually hated him for his ill-treatment of this innocent, naive soul. I pined for her weakness, deplored his bastard streak. But when he made his moves on me, I succumbed every time, and had no willpower, no control, no sense of responsibility.
I hated myself for what I did to Verity. My friends hated me too: "Would you hit on my boyfriend?". No. I just loved Andrew.
Those close to me wondered how I could do it, how I could live with myself. I wonder sometimes too. I just took the situation because it was all I could do, I had no choice, as far as I was concerned.
There's a lot more to this story, which I shall explain very soon.
For now, I'd just like to say I agree with all your policies. Love is a cunt. And the cunt is Andrew.
While he slept with everything in a skirt, I watched, and feigned a smile, and pretended I was cool with it. When his girlfriend came out with us, I befriended her and behaved in the appropriate way. I commented on what a perfect relationship they shared, how 'adorable' she was, fucked him the next day, and made myself scarce when they needed their 'alone time'. Barf. 'What a fucking saint'.
I hugged her when he hit her, and consoled her when he was cruel. I actually hated him for his ill-treatment of this innocent, naive soul. I pined for her weakness, deplored his bastard streak. But when he made his moves on me, I succumbed every time, and had no willpower, no control, no sense of responsibility.
I hated myself for what I did to Verity. My friends hated me too: "Would you hit on my boyfriend?". No. I just loved Andrew.
Those close to me wondered how I could do it, how I could live with myself. I wonder sometimes too. I just took the situation because it was all I could do, I had no choice, as far as I was concerned.
There's a lot more to this story, which I shall explain very soon.
For now, I'd just like to say I agree with all your policies. Love is a cunt. And the cunt is Andrew.
posted by Anonymous | 9:18 pm
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And tonight on The Springer Show - "I Slept with my Friend's Womanising, Wife-Beating, Bastard Boyfriend!"
You slept with him and fucked all of your relationships because you blatantly have very low self worth and a very large lack of empathy.
It's not his fault, it's YOUR fault. He hit on you. YOU opened your legs and let him have a piece like a five cent plastic cow.
You could have said no.
It's bad enough when people cheat. It's worse when they try to pretend like it's not their fault.
Hmmm. A tough debate, but I'd say essentially Andrew is the one who has the commitment to someone else. It's your problem you were dumb enough to fall victim, but essentially you're not the biggest cunt in the situation.