You know what?

You want the pure, unadulterated truth, no soft touch or feelings spared? I said yes when you asked me out against my own better judgement; yes I cared and yes I thought you were sweet and cute and maybe it was worth a shot, and would be nice to be in a cute quad polycule with all four of us. But it turns out I should have listened to my gut feelings a lot more.

It’s still true that it was never about the money; yes I was panicking and brainstorming trying to come up with a solution to my problem, scared of ending up homeless with my cats, and I wanted so badly to have us all living peaceably in one place. I’m sorry if it was too much too fast. I wanted better things for all of us.

But I was never into you the way I am into [babe], the way I’m into [redacted]. Our connection was shallow at best, and the reason I texted [redacted] every day and not you was because I fucking wanted to. Because I had built up a connection, built up a daily habit of messaging him, built a relationship with him. Maybe even, I’ll admit, a little bit of an obsession with him. Love is not a zero sum game; polyamory even less so. I don’t expect anyone to love me the same as they love anyone else, I don’t expect to be an equal to everyone else in my partners’ lives. I loved him more. And that’s okay.

I probably should have told you straight up at the time, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings (when you asked me out, or when you complained about our lack of connection) because I did care. It’s still true, and always was, that you and me had the same level of connection throughout our relationship: very little. I wanted you to be happy, as I wanted all of us to be happy.

And all I got out of it was stabbed in the back. Jealousy is unbecoming, and is something I’ve never tolerated well.