Look, the deal is that I can't be myself around you. I can't be flawed and stupid and make mistakes around you. You make me so damned ashamed of myself whenever I do that I can't stand looking at you. My own fault? I don't know. It could have been, but I think it's more of a sign from God -- and a message from my common sense. I want to be able to be coarse, rude, and ridiculous around you and not feel the weaker for it. Instead, there isn't a damned thing I've done in my life that you don't make me feel ashamed of, and I'm sorry to admit it, but I resent you for that. Whoever I love and will marry, we will be equally flawed, we will be equally perfect, and we will be equally insane. Also, we will be equally judgmental, and have equal faith in each other's abilities to forgive. Because without forgiveness, what life do we truly have?

I will not be made to feel inferior because I decided to experiment, to take matters into my own hands, and to learn from my mistakes. I am not a bad person, and I will not be made to feel as though I am. Perhaps you have done more than some people would have -- but it doesn't matter to me. The truth is that I was never comfortable just cracking my own jokes around you, though you never really got them. Even being around my friends, you made me feel guilty. Talking to them, you made me regret. Just having fun became a sin. Sure, you were going through changes,  you were experiencing new things, but that made it even more destined not to be. It was flawed from the start. How can I expect something to become perfect when it has been flawed from the beginning?

I hope you don't take this personally; it is the truth, and such things should be taken as such -- as the inexplicable, impersonal truth. But my feelings aren't changing, and I'm sure yours aren't either, so let us leave it as this.