I’m sorry S, for stealing R from you. I don’t know you very well but you seem ok. When you were drunk once we had a conversation about shoes and books, that was cool. But when R asked me out and we sort of fell for each other really hard, I had no idea you’d been sleeping with each other about a few weeks earlier. You must have really liked him to react like you did. I barely knew him, how was I supposed to know? I never meant to hurt you and I understand how you must feel, hating me like you do. I’ve been through it, I think most girls have.
I think what makes it worse are my huge boobs. I understand how I can seem like the perfect scapegoat, the big boobed bimbo who has no brains (sorry to prove you wrong) and he just wants to fuck.
But I promise you we’re in love. True, deep, crazy, compassionate, fiery love.
And if to have that I would have to do it all over again and in the process hurt you, I would. I am sorry… but he’s just worth that much to me.
