Dear readers: Folks who have the Savage Love app get the Savage Love Letter of the Day (SLLOTD) delivered to their iPhones or Androids. This week, I'm running a recent SLLOTD to give my print-only readers a taste of what they're missing. I'm also giving myself a bit of a break: I'm currently dashing around the country on a book tour for It Gets Better: Coming Out, Overcoming Bullying, and Creating a Life Worth Living. (Order yourself a copy — or donate one to your old middle or high school — at www.itgetsbetter.org.) But before we get to the letter ...
I want to take this opportunity to thank Savage Love readers for launching the It Gets Better Project.
My husband and I created the project in response to the suicides of several LGBT youth. The idea was to give bullied and despairing LGBT youth hope for their futures by encouraging LGBT adults to reach out to them via YouTube. (For the record: Not all LGBT youth are bullied or despairing.) The It Gets Better Project was first announced in this space. Savage Love readers jumped in to help spread the word about the project on YouTube, Facebook and Twitter, and Savage Love readers created the very first wave of IGBP videos. Savage Love readers are responsible for making the It Gets Better Project the international phenomenon it is today and, more importantly, for helping to save the lives of countless LGBT kids.
Whether it's taking on a bigot like Rick Santorum, coming to the defense of Constance McMillen, or jumping in to help bullied LGBT teenagers, my readers and listeners are a force to be reckoned with. Thanks for all you do.
I am a 28-year-old woman, living in a town with a big military base. About a year ago, I noticed this really torn-up-looking guy sitting by himself in a bar. It turned out his wife had just been deployed and was going to be gone for nine months. He said he didn't think he'd make it. We wound up having sex. I moved in a few days after that. The whole thing revolved around nobody asking questions. Over time, I fell in love with him, and I thought he fell in love with me. If I thought about the future, I told myself he'd leave his wife for me.
Yesterday, he woke up and said, "It's over. She's coming home today." I was crying and crying while he kept coming up with these unbelievable lines: we had a good thing, he'd miss my love, I should try to remember the magic. Then he told me to look away so he wouldn't have to watch me crying!
I know I was a fool, Dan, but who was the bigger jerk?
Seeing as you spent the last nine months attempting to be the author of someone else's misery — his wife's misery — only to wind up being the author of your own, SE, it's kind of hard to feel sorry for you. I suppose you deserve some credit for acknowledging that you're a jerk — you did, after all, ask me to determine which one of you is the bigger jerk — but I gotta say that your jerkiness is the kind that makes me want to break out my brand-new-asshole-carving knife.
But he's the bigger jerk.
My reasoning: He took up with another woman during his wife's absence, and he allowed this other woman to move into the home he shared with his wife. The other woman avoided conversations about the future because she was afraid of finding out that she didn't have one; he avoided conversations about the future because he was afraid the other woman would pack up her pussy and leave if he told her she didn't have one. And then he tossed the other woman out on her ass the very day his wife returned to the States, giving her very little time to make other living arrangements.
That makes him the bigger jerk, IMO. You both deserve new assholes — but he deserves a slightly bigger one.
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