A letter that will never be read by the person it is intended for. For my safety and my love for you, you should never read this.
My darling Sheldon,
You are amazing. Truly you are. I am nothing but a piece of shit. Sure, you may have raped a teenage girl, your own cousin, and be doing time for it, but I am worse than you. How, you ask? Simple.
Less than 2 weeks after deciding I loved you, and sending a letter saying such to you, I cheated. I have been sleeping around since. Pathetic that I even know that date. Further proof of the shitty person I am. Between June 25th, and , just 7 short weeks, I managed to sleep with 4 people. FOUR. In SEVEN weeks. I feel like a ho for saying that when I know there are worse people out there. Anyways. I slept with Mitch. Miley. One who shall remain nameless. And Travis. And after sleeping with Travis, we kept it up for a few weeks. Probably close to 2 months. We only spent maybe 4 nights together but still. And, As always, the feelings I have for Mitch are ever-present. I hate it. I read a great book called “He’s Just not that into You”. Mitch fills so many of those categories that the book discusses, and yet, I let him into my life over and over. For instance, we keep casually hooking up. IDK what it is about him, he still makes my blood boil more than anyone else ever has for me. For that, I want to apologize. Profusely. I am soooo sorry. There is more to this thing with Mitch. We are still sorta seeing each other. Well, not really seeing so much as sleeping. And we have plans this weekend to “see” each other. And although we use protection, since I got a bunch of condoms while “seeing” Travis, Part of me wants the protection to fail. I want a baby so bad. I mean, I have liz and I definitely want children with you, but right now I have baby-fever so bad. Im to the point of telling you to not wear anything under your pants the next time I visit, and I can wear a dress minus undies, and even if we get into crazy trouble I would say to pork me anyway (wow that sounds so unromantic, lol). I have issues, lots of them. Really, how many issues does one person need tho?
Take for instance, this insanely stupid crush I have on the Big B. Even with the circumstances and him being married, no matter what I tell myself, the thoughts stay. Like when I am by myself and sexual thoughts pop in and then I yell at myself, out loud. Yeah, that is how bad it is. I find myself trying to find the most low-cut items in my closet that could still seem work-appropriate, and wear them. And I can’t even get a look-over from him. I mean, that is awesome, I hope one day the man I marry is able to do that as well, but it’s a ego-killer for me right now which is probably why I am having issues. Even now, I am hoping that for whatever reason he will walk past, that I can catch a glimpse of him, which is lame in itself. I don’t know why I think he is good looking. It has got to be the confidence. I wish I had just one ounce of that confidence.
You say there are no more lies in our relationship, yet there are, and mine keep growing. I don’t know how to resolve them. I do know that in 2167 days when you come home, I want to be the one you keep house with. I know that you will be that one. I want to be with you. I am just having trouble coping right now, which is soooo weird for me. I have always been a cope-r. Oh, my pen-pal, the ONLY one who writes me back is in prison? Ok, I’ll deal. Oh, now he tells me he is guilty? He raped a teen, or younger? Oh, it was his own cousin? I DEALT! Now, all of a sudden, now, ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU ARE GONNA WALK PAST RIGHT NOW WHEN I JUST GOT DONE TYPING ABOUT IT WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT IS THAT?????? Where was I (damn ADD) oh yeah, NOW after 800 days (as of today), I can’t deal? What the fuck is that bull shit?
800 hundred days. I have known you for 800 days. Wow. And to think, only 2,167 days to go. For a grand total or 2,967 days. When you come home, I will have known you for two thousand nine hundred and sixty-seven days. Damn. I love you so much and yet it feels so daunting. I need a drink. Maybe a couple dozen. Or a lobotomy. Just saying.
Maybe things will be easier when I move to CT. I know things are not going to be easier in my own apartment though, cuz it will give me space to have Mitch come over. Or someone else. And frankly, the only other person I want to add to my sexual résumé is you. Well, maybe the B haha but that is doubtful.
In closing, I just want to say that I love you, I will stand there for you, and be there for you mentally. Just don’t expect me to sit sexually dormant for the next 2,167 days. It ain’t happening. And I’m sorry. I don’t even like sex and I just can’t go without. How fucked up is that? Ok, really I am done now. Sheldon Mitchell Thomson (btw, can we please change your middle name????), I love you more than anything in the world. Forgive me my issues, I can’t help them.
Love, your amazing (yet lying girl), Shannon