Yes, I wrote a letter. Why? Because its a little bit more personal. Haha what am I saying about being personal, you don’t know what personal means!
About ten minutes ago I recalled something you told me, that I would not be a woman until I had sex. Hah! I’m laughing right now as I’m writing this to you. Hah, Haha! I don’t need sex to grow up or to be an adult. I have accomplished so much more than you have done in your own bed!
I’ve won so many awards, graduated from so many programs and most importantly from school and now am attending a very prestigious college. And guess what, I do have a life. I do have friends that graduated, are not sex addicts and have lives too.
I’m a woman, and part of being a woman is being a man too. Why is that? Because I can do just about everything you can do, and more. I’m better than you because of what I know. I know that I don’t need you haunting my pure thoughts with images of sex.
I’m not perfect, nor is anyone else in the world. I’m struggling in math and my spelling has been going atrocious lately but I’m doing what I love. And that is teaching. And right now I’m teaching you. I know you’re with a younger girl (for crying out loud she’s younger than me! And I was younger than you!) so please treat her right. Or she might be out for revenge like all your other past girls.
Whats sad is that story you told me. About you hooked up with a girl and come to find out your own dad dated her not too long before. Honestly? Or did you only tell me that to get attention? You’re sad.
I know I fell, hard, for you, but it was out of rage. Rage because I was being cheated on. He wasn’t cheating on me, it was over long before it began.
I do hope to see you again, bring up another spark of ‘wow’ into my life, but thats not because you were devishly handsome, which you probably still are, but its because I think I was in love with that long ago. And yet, I somehow got enough courage to walk out of your house when you asked me to do the deed with you. I Walked Out. Remember that? I bet it still haunts you, the virgin that got away.
You live in my Ipod of all places, damn you for having that solo in the spring concert, but also bless you for having that beautiful tenor voice. And so I hear you practially every time I turn on my Ipod. I do hope you’re still singing, don’t let it go to waste.
Some day we’ll both get married, and I’ll eventually be bedded. And it won’t be in your bed. It’ll be in my honeymoon bed by a man that I love. Once that was you, and maybe it will be again in the future but right now it’s not and I’m not looking that far ahead yet.
I don’t need sex to be an adult. I don’t need you telling me that I need sex to grow up. I don’t need you. Call me a child, but in my mind I am an adult, more of one than you’ll ever be.
Goodbye, perhaps for now, perhaps forever,
Signed,
The One that Got Away ♥
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