I have no way of knowing if a friendship between us is still something you want, though I suspect not.

Another letter never sent:

You called me on Friday night, claiming in your message that the reason for your call was simply to follow up on the status of the money order you mailed. You didn't have to call me to find that out and we both know it. In strict accordance with other recent actions, your calling me was entirely self-serving and I was livid that you tried to contact me. I'm still angry with you for doing this, but after some thought I realize that I'm also glad you did.

After you broke up with me you became different; you were cold and unfeeling toward me, but publicly you cast yourself as the victim, acting under the maxim "In matters of utmost importance, style, not sincerity, is the vital thing."

After I poured my heart out to you, spilling drops of pathos and anguish and so many liters of tears at your feet, you had the gall to respond with "I'm sorry you feel that way. Actually, no. I'm not sorry. It's a bummer that you feel that way." Those words represent but a few of the many harsh, impenitent statements tossed my way but remain the ones I think of most. The ones that frequent my thoughts and trouble my spirit. The ones that make me doubt my own judgement, my own heart, and the relationship I had with you which I previously thought had been precious to us both. You were a completely selfish and remorseless creep.

Your keen adaptability to my heart's demise sent a chill through my heart. A chill. Your actions lead me to believe that the person I was so apt to dwell on for thirteen months was a figure of my own imagination, not you, Kevin Neff. I felt I didn't know you and, furthermore, I had no wish to.

But then you called. The fact that you called under the thinly veiled guise of making sure I got the money I was owed gave me hope that perhaps what we had was real. For both of us. And although in the end you chose what you knew would be a fleeting, sexual relationship over what could have continued to be the most important friendship of our lives, I take some solice in the knowledge that the man who never looks back looked back, however briefly, and thought of me.

I'll ask you again not to contact me anymore unless it's absolutely necessary, especially not while I'm at work (a request you've needlessly disrepected several times). I don't know if I want to know you anymore, or if I ever knew you in the first place. What I do know is that before I make a decision on the matter I need to be sure I'm healthy in every respect, and I have a lot of work to do to get myself well again. Don’t misunderstand me, Kevin. I hate your breathing guts but I love you like I've never loved anyone.