When it came out that night, that big fight night. That you had been raping me. I'll never be able to forget the look on all the faces. But mostly yours. Because you knew. It wasn't a quick spin of the moment. I had pushed aroundMatthew, and made him corroborate. I'd gotten really drunk one night, on the roof of that studio. I drank straight from the bottles. And threw them into the street when they were empty. I liked the way they made a puft sound. I was angry for reasons that don't even matter. Small things. Stupid small things. And I wanted to share that pain. And I wanted to be loved.

But I stared across the street long that night, sinking further into bad decisions and what i now know would be justified justified justified.

I woke the next morning, vomit smeared on my cheek and Matthew passed out next to me equally smeared. I threatened him with Adam. I don't remember what, but it wasn't anything sensible, fair of that of logic.

You've never once, ever asked me why. You've never objected, denied hinted or even reacted. Over the years when I had it tucked away in my self, and I looked at you with my liars eyes, you never said a thing.

Thinking back now, I ask myself how could someone accuse someone they love, falsely of something so terrible. I've also asked myself, how could someone still love the other person, when they've lied so? I don't have answers for these questions. But it is something that has haunted me for a very, very long time.

I'm sorry that I have to say this, via email because it's something I feel I need to say to you, so you can see my eyes.  But I'm sorry, Clyde. I'msorryi lied about you, to you and for all the mayhem, pain, suffering that resulted as of that.  

I'm sorry Clyde.

Jack.

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