This was me, before, hating and hostile.  Holding on.  Hurting.  Before.  This is "past tense," so pay attention.

I don’t want to be with you because of where you’ve been.  You’ve made us common by including me in all that you shared with her.  I cannot be with someone who tells me to give him the benefit of the doubt then sneaks off to support her.  I don’t want to be with you.  I want to make a hundred excuses why.  The real reason is you chose me in the end, but the choice wasn’t clear for you.  Your not knowing makes me feel uncertain about us.

I have trust issues.  I comb through your cell phone looking for evidence, to find something that will set me off.  And I always find something.  A diary entry where you keep a record of wrongs.  That’s not love; it’s right.  And I’ll call you on it, and you’ll claim, "so I’m more aware of why we fight."  You’ll claim, "to improve."  I’ll see it as the anti-Corinthians.  It’s your “see, I’m right" memo, the one you’ll whip out next time to prove something. It’s right beside the phone photo you took of the McCormick’s board saying she drinks free.  You arranged for her to drink free, just as you’d done for me.  You took her there, and probably to your vacation home, and probably anywhere else you’ve taken me.  The Tasting Room for her birthday.  When we’d gone you introduced me to the owner as the love of your life.  I wonder if he remembered the time you took her there.  I wonder who else has been where I have.  You’ve made us common, which makes me not want you.  Knowing you wanted someone else when you could have had me makes me not want to be with you.  Knowing she was in your calendar, that while you were with me, you were making plans to see her shows… it all makes me not want to have anything to do with you. 

They say there’s a danger in writing it all down.  One day someone can find it, there’s proof to be used against you.  I don’t care if you find this.  Then you’ll know how much it still hurts me.  How unfair you think I’m being, how it’s unrealistic to think you didn’t have a past before me… I know all of that.  I didn’t know, however, that you brought her into your life the way you did with me.  That you hold onto her still.  You say you don’t, that I should give you the benefit of the doubt, but you do.  You hold on.  I hold on harder.

I don’t want to be with you because of her.  What more can you do, so I don’t feel this way?  I don’t have an answer.  I don’t like what you’ve shared with her, that while you were with me, you chose to continue to see her.  I don’t like your choices.  I don’t like that even when we were an US, you still saw her and kept her in your life.  I don’t like that NOW, even after everything we’ve been through, I still don’t trust that you’ll never speak with her again.  I don’t trust.  How can we be an US if I don’t trust you?  And if I can’t trust you, YOU, then I can’t trust anyone.