March 15, 2006:

"Well, happy birthday. I know it won’t still be when you get this, but that’s when I’ve finally gotten around to writing this thing. You’re 20 now, and less of a man than you were the year before and even less of a man than the year before that. Thanx for remembering my birthday, btw. I keep remembering more and more how you’ve abandoned me, and therefore keep questioning whether I really want you back in my life, because I doubt you can ever make becoming everything you hate up to me. With that said, we have some things to work out. Here’s the deal:

 -the Pooh Bear I gave you. My cousin gave that to me for graduation. I’d told you that if we ever broke up I might want it back, and well…trust me, it’s not easy for me to ask for it back. I know it holds a lot of positive memories for you- or I hope it does- but it was originally from one of the only cousins I like on my dad’s side of the family. I hope you understand. I’m sorry, Nam.

-Black Sabbath shirt. It was “ours”. Who’s is it now?

-same with the “Resident Evil” shirt that I won. It was “ours”, but who’s is it now?

Well that’s all I remember for now. Oh wait:

 -the “Resident Evil” poster. You gave it to me, and then I gave it to you for when you were in college to think of me. Seeing as how you don’t need it anymore, I was wondering if I could have it back. You said you were going to over the summer, anyway, and you never did. I’m sorry.

Now I’m aware that all of these things, (except for the Black Sabbath shirt) are probably in your house in San Jose, and since your spring break will probably be over by the time you get this, it’s fine if none of these things come back to me until you’re out of school in June. I’ll probably write you another letter then since I don’t think you’re going to start talking to me again any time soon. I really do still miss and care about you; I wouldn’t be so angry if I didn’t. In all seriousness I wish the best for you and all of your life’s endeavors.

I’ll never forget you,

Jennifer"

March 23, 2006:

"It’s the 23^rd now, and I’m finally getting around to sending this. Not because of anything special, that’s just a coincidence. Basically, I’ve been on the brink of suicide for the past week. I think the only reason I’m not dead now is because this guy who is absolutely amazing in bed called me up, so I got to have sex with him again and it made me feel good about myself. That’s right- my self-esteem is so low again I have to have sex in order to feel attractive. It’s amazing what happens to you when all of your emotional support abandons you. Anna’s moved on with her life and never calls, and you, you just hate me for some reason. It’s always my fault. And I’ve been suicidal because I have no one now, and this is what’s going on: The woman from Juvenile Probation called my house in Santa Clara and left a message there against my wishes again. I still have a chance to gain Restitution, but any other money I want I’ll have to seek civilly. As much as I want to, I don’t have the financial or mental support to do so. Also, after the amount I requested, I was told that I have to submit it in writing. This means now I get to go through my calendars, see things I don’t want to see, and that’s right, I have no one to help me through the process. And here’s the best part. I found out what his sentencing was- six months probation, with no jail time, no registering as a sex offender, no special counseling. That’s it. And Erin and Brian have decided they want no part in this. You know how angry Brian was, and you know that he was telling me to have the faggot bastard killed when I just wanted him maimed & disfigured for the rest of his life, so he’d be on the outside how I am on the inside. I really feel abandoned by you, most of all, because you gave up. I know I did a lot of shit because of my disorder, but I guess you never loved me like you said you did or else you would have stuck through. People now don’t understand how crazy I am unless they read about how we used to be, & that you won’t even talk to me anymore…I don’t know. I know you have more important things to do, so go do them. I doubt you even read both of these. After all, you never read the e-mails I send. It hurts a lot. You may not give a fuck about me, but I can’t let go of you. Like I said in the other letter in here, I wouldn’t be hurting so badly if I didn’t. People tell me that either you do still care about me somewhere and lied about not loving me anymore, or you lied when we were together about how much you loved me then. Which is it? I seriously want to know. If you’re not going to even talk to me about normal things, then you might as well answer whatever questions I have. I feel freer now to really get angry with you and tell you how fucked up I am because you’re not around anymore, but I’m scared. I’m scared you’ll forget the good times we had if you haven’t already. I’ve sent you a few things I saw online that I thought you would like. I never heard back from you. Like I said before, I doubt you’ll read these things. It’s just that so much has been happening. Just two weeks ago I had to talk to my WS professor about some of the upcoming readings and how I can’t handle them and why. She is the first person that ever told me that I’m entitled to get help, that not being able to watch “Law and Order” isn’t a short coming in my strength, but a way that society brutalizes victims. Not even you did that. And sadly, I need you now, even though you started sounding more and more like my dad and my ex combined. But maybe I need that. Maybe I need to be verbally abused and yelled at and spoken to in a condescending tone and treated like I was nothing more than an ignorant, stupid and naïve little girl that is made denser simply because she is female. Maybe it helps me place blame. Every guy I’ve ever cared about that supposedly felt the same way has done it, starting with my dad. I know that girls usually get stuck with guys who are just like their fathers, but I thought I broke that curse when I got together with you. The longer you were in San Diego, the more fate proved me wrong. I do remember that day you took me to Monterey in August and I am eternally grateful for that. No one else in this universe would have done that, and through me, you have seen the ugliest aspects of the human psyche in front of your own eyes and in someone you loved, someone you knew was great as long as she didn’t trigger. What’s sad is I know no one will ever stay as long as you did ever again.

Forever Thankful,

Jennifer Ruiz"

Please be nice about this. I really wish that some of you had been around when we'd been dating, then perhaps you'd understand better. I really am confused and I'm not sure what I want from him at all. :(