Among the little trips in the wayback machine last night...I found a small stack of cards and notes and letters from T. -- all the "love you forever" stuff and silly pics -- and at the very bottom...the three-page letter he sent me trying to justify why he cheated on me. This betrayal happened just after I found out I had cancer and he tried to justify it by telling me how scared he was...In a nutshell: I'm so afraid you're going to die, I had to go fuck my ex-girlfriend. Poor guy.
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And yet I knew even then that the timing could not have been more perfect. It allowed me to jettison his sorry ass and not waste getting-well energy on a dying, never-should-have-started-it-in-the-first-place relationship. T. and I are good friends now and there are aspects of this story, as harsh as it may seem, that are pretty damned funny to me.
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That was a relationship in which I knew that all the pretty words were empty and that he was never going to feel the way I did, but I blundered ahead anyway...and I guess remembering the person I was at that time in my life shook me up a bit.
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