*Important: I took pride in working and earning my own money. I relied as little as possible on my parents for monetary expenses. It’s wrong that their hard earned money should go to my leisurely activities and I never would use something that I don’t own to enhance my/others’ entertainment. That’s why it’s fucked up you felt entitled to MY money because you assumed my parents were backing me. Even though they were, THEIR MONEY IS NOT YOURS. Nobody is entitled to someone else’s money ever, regardless of which tax bracket they exist in. It’s so typical of Buffalo residents who expect and do take advantage of someone from the Tri-state area: as if they deserved luxury when the reality will always be cheap/tacky Bumblefuckers falling short of any class: nevermind the highest ones.
I want you to know that I was always disgusted with your miserly ways. You always complained about your father being stingy with his money when it came to family and overly generous (showing off) with strangers: you believed that you were different than him and you’re not. Let me be crass and write this in the only language you understand: terms involving money. For example, when you came to LI for a visit while I was recovering from surgeries and not working*. We saw a Hilton hotel that you wanted to stay at and I jokingly told you that on a special occasion we should stay there because it was damn expensive. Immediately, you said, “This is a special occasion and it’s not that much money (fyi: $300/night).” I parked the car and when we asked the concierge about a room, you never offered to pay for the room (even though it was *your* idea and I didn’t need to stay there b/c my house was half a mile away) or split the cost. You do what you’ve always done and stood there like an idiot while the room was booked and paid for by ME. When I left the hotel room momentarily, you put on the white terry cloth robe that high-end hotels provide; I’ll never forget the first thought that came to mind when I saw you standing there in the only robe provided – you looked like a complete putz. You may want to imagine that you deserve luxury and fit into the lifestyle associated with high expenses (without having to work for it yourself) but you stick out like a tourist in NYC. You have never had a problem using and abusing people. Even Christian’s mom called you a stuck up brat when you told your friends NOT to pay for HER birthday dinner because she was covering for you.
There were the designer clothes you loved and coveted but would not pay for. The dinners, drinks and desserts you happily mooched off me. If I added *all* of it up, you would easily owe me one of every item in an Apple store. You never even gave me, your longest term gf at the time, an appropriate birthday or anniversary gift. It’s not just the money, there were your actions: lies, shadiness and cheating. You fit the definition of a sociopath to a “t.” Want to know why I chose to remain single and not see you in South Korea? I saw and knew that the core of who you are and the characteristics that amount to you could not and would not change; I didn’t want to be miserable for whatever short amount of time we were together because you were never worth that wasted time. I was in love with an illusion and knew in my heart that you were not and could never be the man I had created, worshiped and loved: the man I deserved. I fell in love with potential. I cried at the idea of being your girlfriend and sobbed with relief when you let me go. It’s been 4 years since I’ve seen or heard from you, and though this closure of sorts was written back then, I’m giving it to you now because I think you’re mature enough to confront and acknowledge your shortcomings.
You’re a coward who strings people (friends and S.O.’s) along and rather than making definitive moves/declarations, you just run away. The persecution complex you exaggerated and loved would always accuse me of being dramatic and wrongly suspicious: funny how the truth reveals itself and redeemed my confidence/sanity. You know what was truly pathetic about your lies? I already knew the truth and you thought you could further deceive me into believing how much you’ve grown and matured. I lost count of all the girls who came out of the woodwork to confess, in person, that they slept with you when they knew you had a girlfriend. Some of them had no clue about our relationship and that revelation made their guilt much more potent. They knew I was better than them and too damn good for you and they showed it with their remorse. Granted, some just wanted to stop feeling sleazy and have a clear conscience. What’s the most mind boggling is how you thought you were such a stud: sex with you was mediocre. I can’t believe that at one point I thought you were actually capable of loving someone and growing into a respectable man. I should have heeded all the warning signs (verbal clues and loud actions) that you were (and still are) just a chump. I damn myself for caring about and loving you. I’m only bitter about all the wasted time and youth with you. I know you better than you know yourself, thus I know you can never change your nature. My mother was right about you even though you protested how genuine, honest and loyal you are and loved by other parents. I believe you when you say other parents welcomed you but I wouldn’t trust their judgement of character. I now understand why most of your gf’s and fuck buddies were crazy or getting there: you were the common denominator and you made me completely neurotic. As you (hopefully) mature, I hope you come to the realization that *you’re* the unbalanced one and not just a magnet for insane women. That bipolar way of being fun, sweet and intense always slipped to cruelty, indifference and danger: I’m sorry I was the one who spotted that 6 week cycle of up and down. I put up with a lot of shit I shouldn’t have. If I ever saw you in public, I would pretend like I didn’t see you and walk away quickly. You owe me a HUGE apology, large amounts of money and the one thing I want that you can never give back: Time.