The letter I should have written but never could

You,

I always felt like I was alone when I was with you. For the most part you ignored me, too wrapped up in your own existence and trivial ideas about what was important (action figures, movies, the latest gossip). Apparently I never made that list because you never could take the time of day to truly talk to me, or do anything for me really. It's a shame because I loved you, and believed we could have made it work.
I realize this all will sound a little harsh but, anything less will result in me breaking down in tears, calling you up and asking why you couldn't treat me as good as you should have. I already know the reasons, they're just hard to accept.
Sometimes I'll take a moment out of my day and just stop and think about what you're doing. I still feel jealous that you're spending time with her. I always knew you were in love with her and, it's obvious you still are. It hurts that even though you spent over a year with me, in the end you always belonged to her. I tried to pretend you were there with me but, ultimately I knew it was lie. I left because I felt like I didn't even exist anymore.
I sincerely hope that you never put another girl through what you put me through. I know I'm not perfect but I never hurt you or talked behind your back to anyone. I left the area and let you have everything I bought for "us". I even let you have all our "friends". I left without a sound. I never even told the true stories to those who asked; how you didn't get me anything for Christmas or my birthday, how you asked me to clean the house so you could bring your friends over for a visit while I was sick with the flu, puking into a bucket, how you threatened to "bash my face into the wall" infront of your best friend right before we all left to go to a concert, how you stayed after work for a few hours to watch t.v. with a friend the same day a close friend of mine died while you knew I was at home crying, how you took off to light fireworks with your friends instead of picking me up from work, how you'd take off for hours and not tell me where you were, or the debt you put me into. These are onlya few, small examples of your complete neglience.
I did everything for you, got up to make you breakfast before work, did your laundry, washed the dishes, cleaned the house, went to work, and then came home to be ignored by you while you played video games or watched a movie. I tried so hard to get you out of the house, get you to see the world, or even just to enjoy a moment. Have you ever just sat still, and actually thought about what you want? You could never do that with me. Just stop and exist. You always seemed to need to keep busy, avoid eye contact, be as anti-social as possible with those most interested in hearing what you have to say, push away those who love and respect you. What was wrong with me that I spent so long with someone like that? Was I trying to save you, to change you?
You played the victim so well. You talked about how badly the women in your life had hurt you, refused to discuss your childhood in an attempt to draw sympathy for the abuse you endured, and it is sad what happened to you, but the same thing happened to me and I'm okay. I don't use it to get dates and I can talk about it because I'm fine and it's dealt with. Why, at 25 years old, have you not gained the maturity to deal with your issues? I'm 5 years younger but I always tried to help you. I thought if only I could show you what true love was you'd see that there was hope and your life would change. I thought you were simply in a rut and needed someone to believe in you. If you are indeed a conartist, you're one of the best; either way you broke my heart.
On any matter the reason we broke up has nothing to do with either of our childhoods. We did not break up because you couldn't touch me without feeling like you were molesting me. You had NO problems using me as a hole for all of 2 minutes with little concern about my desires or feelings. You barely touched me at all unless it meant an orgasm for you. The REAL reason I left you has a lot to do with your immorality than anything else. Doesn't anyone see anything wrong with a 25 year old man living at his mother's, not going to school, not paying her rent or helping her around the house in ANY way, in debt for a coke addiction, and treating those around him like disposable play toys? Well, I do, and I don't want to build a future with a man like that.
When I got pregnant I thought about our future together, what kind of father, what kind of husband you'd be, and it was then that I realized there was no future with you. You'd always look through me when you'd talk to me, and you'd never realize that it's not saying the words 'I love you' that mattered, but showing it through actions. Eventually I'd just disappear, and be a shadow of the person I used to be. And anyway, I never really believed you when you told me you loved me. I never felt like there was any stablity with you. And to bring a child into that? To have my son, or daughter, grow up to be as miserable as both of us? Either way they'd be doomed. They'd see an abusive father, or a weak mother, and choose a path equally unhealthy and it would be my fault for allowing it to happen. I'm only 20, too young to give up so soon.
I never wanted to be bitter or tainted by past experiences. I always believed in the existence of true love, and I still do. I always want to come out of difficult experiences the way I dive into them, honest, energetic, and with good intentions, but it's hard to be that right now. Even though I left you for legitamite reasons it still hurts, and I still miss you; despite all that has happened, all the fights, all the crying, all the lies...
Things are up in the air. I don't know where I'm going or what I want. You were my home for so long... It hurts that you didn't try for me, didn't fight for me, but then I remember you aren't the type to do anything for anyone other than yourself and I feel a little bit better. You failed me, or rather I failed myself, but at least I know I didn't fail you.
As depressing as this letter is, there is always hope. I'm back in the city I've always loved and I'm slowly, but steadily, pulling myself out of the rut I fell into when trying to pull you out of yours. Somehow I know that in writing all this down I've helped remove a part of you from me. I'll print this out and tuck it into my journal and tomorrow I'll go have that coffee with that cute Scottish guy next door who asked for my number.
What happens from here doesn't matter. I've started being me again and this baggage was collecting dust in the closets of my mind; I just needed to throw it out there. My friends now recognize me again, and I'm actually starting to go out and have fun once more.
I hope that you find what you're looking for, and I hope that oneday you look back and wonder why you stayed asleep for so long. I don't wish ill upon you because I know when you realize what you gave up, it'll hurt you more than I ever could.

Me.