**Editors' Note: Today's guest post comes in from a guy who asked to be anonymous. Fair enough anon..**
Just one really. He's definitely alive and kicking, sending her emails of his love. Emails full of shit metaphors about that profoundly deep love of his. How do I know? Because I read them.
I fucking read her email.
Yep. I sunk that low and violated her trust and privacy.
Worse?
She feels that way for him. But also feels that way for me. She's even told him as much. But she's also told him that she shies away from looking at her feelings for him, doesn't want to look at her late night wondering if they'll ever be together. Has carnal dreams of him.
I hate skeletons. Especially when they're still alive and sharing the bed with you and your new girlfriend.
I hate that I read her email. That I didn't trust her enough. That I wasn't confident enough. That I found what I was looking for.
Just one really. He's definitely alive and kicking, sending her emails of his love. Emails full of shit metaphors about that profoundly deep love of his. How do I know? Because I read them.
I fucking read her email.
Yep. I sunk that low and violated her trust and privacy.
Worse?
She feels that way for him. But also feels that way for me. She's even told him as much. But she's also told him that she shies away from looking at her feelings for him, doesn't want to look at her late night wondering if they'll ever be together. Has carnal dreams of him.
I hate skeletons. Especially when they're still alive and sharing the bed with you and your new girlfriend.
I hate that I read her email. That I didn't trust her enough. That I wasn't confident enough. That I found what I was looking for.
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