Letter To Boyfriend Expressing Hurt Feelings Novels & Stories

My eyes caught a note on the bed and I rushed to pick it up, heart thumping like it wanted to escape my chest. * I don’t even know where to start. I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I? I’m sorry—more sorry than words can hold. I know you probably don’t believe me anymore, maybe you never will. But I swear, I’ve love you like my whole world depends on it. I had to leave. I thought maybe if I’m not here, you can finally breathe without me suffocating you. I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.* I gripped the letter tightly.

Exactly what? Nevertheless, he was thankful he came back to his senses earlier or he would have regretted it. Slowly, He wrote her a letter. A response to hers. It might have been years, yet he believes he owes her a reply. So he did. The letter. Dearest Bess, I don't know what to say. Having read your journal, I'm not sure I deserve your love and care. I'm sorry, Bess. Sorry for being so stupid that I hurt you.

they said in unison. I might not see their faces, but I could picture their dumbfounded expressions in my mind. “My boyfriend,” I repeated tiredly. “But we barely spend time together anymore. It’s been like this for weeks now.” I rubbed my face in frustration. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do you think he’s getting tired of me? What the hell am I supposed to do if he is?” The words poured out of me embarrassingly fast, sounding less like a grown man venting and more like a child complaining to his parents.

So I thought to myself the best apology would be for me to let him know how much he means to me and how I wouldn’t wish to let go of what we have going. I called him my boyfriend. We’ve never used the B-word, and I didn’t think I would be the first to use it. But I won’t lie, it sounded pleasant to my tongue. “Blue roses. Why blue?” He remarked as his eyes roamed over the bouquet, pausing at the sight of the note attached. I presumed his silence to be due to reading the words I had scripted on the note. It was just a short message expressing my romance for him. “Leave the significant to your thoughts. I’m sorry for what I did,” I said to him, as genuinely as I could sound or push myself to b

W-What? "He's my boyfriend now, Liam. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." "B-But, I thought-- "That's what I also thought. But then he told me he loves me too. He was just confused at first, but he loves me too. I'm happy with him, Liam. I'm sorry for doing this to you. You are really important to me. You are always there to make me laugh whenever I feel sad. You really are my best friend... Thank you for always being there for me..."

I asked, not believing that what was inside was what he felt for me. He really poured out his feelings into it. I guess I understand why he was so hurt when Reagan wrote and gave him that horrible rejection letter. “Harps,” he called my name and held my hand. “I have wanted to say this for a long time. I’m sorry I couldn’t express myself and ended up hurting you,” he said. My eyes clouded. I put a hand around his neck and pulled him close. “And I’m sorry I got your letter too late,” I told him.

She added that last part with an amused chuckle. The heavy, suffocating weight on my chest eased by just a fraction as I leaned on their words. I wanted to believe them….I wanted to trust my boyfriend, but my insecurities were too loud. So instead of crying, instead of screaming, or even calling Damien to hear him confirm everything, and tell me he didn’t like me anymore, I stood taller. Keeping the emotion from my voice, I said; “You know what I want to do right now?” From the corner of my eye, I could see both of them share a look before they echoed.

Second, the bastard thug had just called himself my boyfriend and they must have found me disgusting for dating a thug. “Jordan…” Damien made to move closer to me but I backed away. The donut box dropping from my hand. “I said ‘act like my boyfriend’ for just five minutes, not ‘act like my fucking husband’ for the rest of your life!” I half-yelled, my fingers curled into a tight fist as I glared hard at Damien. Damien blinked slowly, taking his time to register every detail of my expression into his damn memory, as if he hadn’t expected me to get mad at him for beating a defenseless man to a musk.

His words, his words, how could he, I wanted to talk but I was exhausted “I made lunch for us I even cut my hands and burnt my fingers while making lunch, I got worried about you I called you more than twenty times, you didn't even have the empathy to pick up just once, I dropped so many messages and voice messages as well you had no conscience to reply any of them, you know when you apologize this afternoon for your reckless words I thought maybe you're starting to change but I forgot something, and that is to never expect anything from an idiot like you, it's my mistake for mistaking your rubbish words as a change” “How dare you say all that to my boyfriend, he's clearly not into bitches l

I approached him, looking deep into his eyes. “He’s my boyfriend…I should’ve called him first” I said the words, looking straight into his eyes, “fine, but don’t come crying to me if he ends up cheating on you, just like your last guy did” he said the words. My eyes widened from shock. No he didn’t!! His words cut deeper than a knife, his eyes studied me for a moment. When he realized the amount of the pain he caused me, he shook his head, “Scar…I” he said, his hand trying to reach for me, but I gave him a cold glare, feeling a tear falling down my cheek. I wiped it anyway, trying to gather myself together.