I know I messed up. And i don't even know where to begin saying sorry. But I am. I am very sorry for all this. I didn't mean to.
Jay, I loved you. You felt that. You knew that. I never used you. All those things you gave me, I appreciated each and every kind and generous gesture. You know that I never asked for them. Never did. Not once. You volunteered.
Whore, you called me. That fucking hurts. I'm no call boy on the street or in the bar. It was never money for sex. They asked me out. They were willing to lend me some money. That was that. And only because I didnt't want to burden you. To ask for money from you because you are already so generous. Because you I loved. I love, still.
How much did you really love me? Beyond the material things, did you really? How come you never introduced me to any of your friends? Don't you think I noticed that? Don't you think I felt you were ashamed of me, because I didn't belong to your circles? I felt that, Jay. Three years, yet you kept me. Because you were ashamed of me. You accuse me of being a money boy. You treated me like one, too.
Enough of this, though. I love you, Jay. I still do. I want to start over. And I don't need any of the stuff you lent me. All I need is you.
If you were Jay, what would you do?
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