Boo,

It was nice of you to welcome me to LA one more time. I know this reunion was not what either one of us was hoping for, but it has helped me a lot with understanding the situation. I am not sure whether you were tired of having these conversations with me because you have already moved on a long time ago, or because they make you uncomfortable, or because of some other reason. There is still a lot on my mind that I was not able to share with you properly, and I sense you still have not been completely honest with me.

Hearing that you don't love me anymore was the most painful thing. Ultimately, this is all that matters, and I cannot fault you for your changed feelings. This could be the end of the conversation, and, as far as the relationship we once had is concerned, it sadly is. But there is more that deserves addressing.

You have done a horrible thing. I don't think this makes you a horrible person, but I cannot pretend that this kind of betrayal is not one of the most heinous acts imaginable. For the longest time, I could not have believed you to be capable of this. Two years ago, this might have been true, but you have changed a lot since then--whether this is merely a return to your former self, as you claim, does not matter. Maybe I am wrong to say this, but I must: You have lost your way.

The other week you said you felt like I was trying to save you and that you found this annoying. Fine. But let me express how this has affected me, and decide for yourself what to make of it.

I hope you'll never have to experience yourself the pain that being cheated on by the person you love brings about. But I want you to understand and acknowledge that this has caused great hurt, as I do not want you to repeat this mistake and inflict this on anybody else. No one deserves to be treated the way you've treated me over the past six months.

Your initial betrayal would have been bad enough. Your subsequent behavior made it worse. At times I wonder what, if anything, of all the things you told me I should still believe. I understand that it can be hard to be honest when it's likely to hurt someone or involves admitting wrongdoing, but your stubborn insistence on lies has eroded all of the trust we have built over the years. When I confronted you about your dealings with "your friend Billy", you played dumb until the very end--at the time, I thought this was you being immature or insecure. I've been trying to come up with excuses and explanations for your more recent lies and deceptions also, but now must wonder if there is any point to that. Maybe there were some noble intentions behind them. The outcomes continue to be worse than if you had just been honest.

First you told me you don't see a future for us because of our differing views on marriage and children...but then this was just a pretext--presumably to not hurt my feelings. But in the end, after reconsidering my position because I wanted us to stay together more than anything else, it just hurt all the more.

First you told me there is no one else when I pressed you on it repeatedly...then: "actually, there is someone else", but you have remained faithful...then you hadn't been faithful, but it only started after I left in February...then there was something before I visted, but only some kissing...judging by the messages I read, I have my doubts about that latest version, too.

Do you realize how hurtful and frustrating this is? At times I felt like talking to a child caught red-handed and refusing to admit the obvious. I don't want to believe this was done with malicious intent, but at some point one begins to wonder why you refuse again and again to be honest, and I haven't found a good answer to that. These lies also draw into question our whole past, and it sucks not being able to look back at our supposedly good years with the confidence that they really were good and not just a product of more deception. While reading your messages to him was hurtful, it has at least given me some much needed clarity that I couldn't expect to get from you.

I really don't know what to think of you any more. When you cried and hugged me the other week, I had hope that there is still a part in you that cares for me in some way and acknowledges how messed up what you have done is. And when I see you refuse to engage in conversations about what has happened, this does not give me the impression of someone who has made peace with her past, but rather someone who shies away from it.

Maybe you are a shitty person right now--but I have also seen you kind-hearted and eager to better yourself by your own standards. I would like to be there as your friend when this part of you reemerges.

Right now, I'm saddened, hurt, angry, and disappointed. Part of me thinks I ought to hate you for what you have done. But I refuse. I want to us to stay friends, and for us to bring out the best in each other again. I understand that we might not be ready for this just yet. But if the day ever comes, I'll be there for you.