You might have just barely managed to keep your cock in your pants, but your mind and your heart should've stayed in your pants too. Somehow, the more I think about it, the greater the violation it seems.
Stupid fucking "deep, meaningful" conversations that meant you "connected" with her--you should have been home, trying to connect with me. I had actually finally let myself trust that you really were in this for the long haul. And I fucking had to *ask* if you wanted to break up with me. The longer you stayed and playacted, instead of coming clean, the more nails went into the coffin. And not from my end. I don't fucking want this to happen. Moving out and into our own places I can handle, and I think it's a necessity. But totally gone? After nearly 4 years together and 3 years living together? Because you have "feelings" for someone you've been flirting and talking with more meaningfully for a few weeks? That's not a reason--it's a fucking excuse. You fucking spineless coward. You've left people before, with similar excuses about needing to find yourself and be alone, but *falling* for someone and sabotaging any chance of you being able to try? That's a first, and it's shameful that you're starting to need to find better excuses for ending things so you can carry on with this sad, lonely pattern.
But then maybe we've both been too depressed and sick for this to work. Stupid hindsight. Stupid asshole. I love you, and this dissolution seems so terribly wrong.