Dear “J” Letter
I used to come home after a 10-hour shift plus two hours of commute. In his eyes, being gone for half of the day of course meant that I was cheating on him. He would start accusing me if I was even just a couple of minutes late and hadn’t texted him ahead of time.
If I didn’t say “I love you” enough times a day, he’d break down and start crying. I broke up with him after I made a shocking discovery—he had tested positive for an STD, according to the test results I found in crumpled up in the trash.
The first thing he told me when I got to the hospital was that he didn’t cheat. I then got tested and I didn’t have an STD; but at that point, we hadn’t been sleeping together much because I was in pain from what I know now as my autoimmune disease that he never believed I had.
On the few days that I wasn’t in pain, he’d beg and cry for us to do it, which turned me off instantly. But the cherry on top of it all? He wrote a break-up letter to me and referred to me as “J” in the entire thing. My name doesn’t start with a J…but his best friend’s name did. Story credit: Reddit / (doej0)