I don’t understand how it all could have crumbled down so soon. We started out great. Everything was just the way I imagined, but it all crumbled down in a matter of minutes when I told you what I contracted. My gynocologist told me it could only have been you who transmitted this disease to me. I was so scared, but I’m coping with it now. I’m not mad, not anymore. I was actually more mad at myself than I was with you and I thought I had no one else to blame but me, but I know now that it’s not my fault, nor is it yours. It just hurts to know that you didn’t want to help me through it. What’s worse is that you actually thought I knew I had it all along. I am not spineless nor irresponsible; I would have told you from the start if I had it beforehand. I read somewhere that as much as 80% of the U.S. population has it, but most don’t show symptoms. I wish you were just a little bit more responsible. Maybe even more thoughtful, caring, or educated about this, but it’s all too late now. You’ve quarantined me.
From the girl who thought she finally had a good thing going,