I don't know why I'm writing. I thought I said all I could when I smashed your laptop but I guess those were just emotional reactions, made in the heat of the moment. What I meant to say to you is less angry.
It's actually more secretive, though, at the same time if I allow myself to really think about it, I might have been obvious. Look, I know I'm not making any sense right now or getting to my point but it's hard to say these words that have been building up since I met you.
In the beginning, your brilliance and your biting tongue was what drew me in and made us friends. Who knew those very same traits would one day lead to my demise?
I bet you have no idea what I'm talking about. It's who you are. You don't always notice things, like the fact that I loved you and how what you did affected me. It disturbed my world as I knew it.
My best friend— whom I trusted beyond anyone else betrayed me.
I'm still so angry with you. It's easy to remember the way my hands shook when I read my contracts and the level of unbidden fury coursing through my veins that didn't stop until I had no choice but to confront you. I had to seek the truth.
Back in Palo Alto, before that moment even, why couldn't you listen to my input or appreciate the hours I spent looking for investors in New York? Fourteen hours days, riding in subways, drifting in and out of meetings, trying to get those businessmen to take a chance at Facebook and yet you seemed indifferent to what I was doing the whole time.
We were supposed to be a part of this company together. The project was both of ours, but you never thought of it that way, did you? Was it just about recognition and exclusivity? Tell me this isn't because I got into the Phoenix. I wanted you to be happy for me, but you wouldn't; you refused. Maybe I even understood why then. At least, I tried to see your side.
So I'm angry and sad, humiliated, but that's not what gets me the most. No, what tears me up is how I can't forget you. It's fucking stupid how much I miss you and underneath all this crap that we inflicted on each other, I still have feelings for you and I can't deal with that information. It doesn't make sense in my head. It's just there, something I can't sort through.
I don't know how many times I've wanted to run my hands through that soft looking mess of curls and in another impulse, punch you for being such an asshole for screwing me over. I've dreamed of kissing that full, red-tinted mouth and tasting a mixture of sweet Red Vines, Mountain Dew and something that can only be best named as Mark.
We never got to do those things, never got be those things. Nothing was simple with us and I'm not saying it has to be.
Just, apologize. That's all I've been waiting for. I sued you because I wanted to get back what was mine and honestly, the lawsuit was never about the money. It was about…you and me, our dysfunctional relationship. I guess I'm asking you to reach out. If you ever wanted me then this might be your last chance.
After everything, I remain hopeful (although I really shouldn't).
Folding the letter, he takes a deep breath and seals the envelope.