Secrets.

I have many.

I don't love you. Maybe I never did. And I wish you would stop saying it.

I wish it had been violent. I wish I had screamed. Maybe then it wouldn't be so confusing. Maybe then I could blame you.

I hate it when you call me beautiful or sexy or cute. Most of the time I'm not and I wish you would accept that.

I screen my calls. Most of the time I don't answer.

I have blocked you on IM for over a year. The other day when we talked, I had accidentally unblocked you. Your benevolent nature makes want to throw up. I hate your words, and I hate myself for hating them.

My life is full of good intentions, but rarely good actions.

I kissed another man when I was still with you. I pushed him on the bed and I would have gone further if we weren't interrupted. I never felt guilty. I still don't. I felt more passion in that one kiss then I ever felt in our six months together.

I've loved you since the day I first met you over three years ago. I'm waiting for the day you two break up.

I only dated you to make your friend jealous.

Our friendship is fake. I don't know anything about you anymore and it's obvious that you don't care about my life anymore as well. It's the 16 years we've known eachother that's keeping us together. We both know it.

Your boyfriend tried to sleep with me last New Year's Eve while you were passed out on the couch. I never told you because I thought you would blame me. Nothing happened.

Half of the time I don't listen when you're talking to me. You don't seem to notice.

Sex with you was never good. I know that now.

I think you're an asshole. I'm sure that's no secret though.