The Guilt Trip

Clark and Janelle met a couple years ago through an internet message board while Janelle was involved in a relationship with another man.

Clark always seemed like a really nice guy, so Janelle and Clark corresponded occasionally over the internet for the next few years. And mind you, we're not talking about foggy webcams and protein-spackled keyboards; the two were strictly friendly acquaintances.

In the meantime, Janelle's relationship at home began to disintegrate and eventually came to a close.

Janelle and Clark then started to correspond more frequently, quickly graduating from the internet to the telephone. The sparks started to fly.

After a few months, Janelle and Clark finally decided it was time for the two to meet in person. Janelle took the plunge and drove 8 hours to Clark's hometown. They immediately hit it off, and ended up spending a week together. "We had a lot of fun," says Janelle.

So much fun, in fact, that Clark and Janelle decided to begin a relationship. Janelle offered to move to Clark's hometown, but warned Clark that she was in the midst of pursuing an education. Janelle had goals in life, and their relationship would always have to take a back seat to the acquisition of her degree.

Clark agreed, so Janelle moved in with Clark. They finally had some alone time together!

Um ... except when Clark's brother was home. And Clark's brother's girlfriend. And Clark's brother's best friend. And Clarks' brother's best friend's girlfriend. They all lived together.

Now, what I'm about to tell you is probably one the most shocking revelations you've ever read on PLFM, so I encourage you to brace yourselves. Ready? Here we go:

Janelle quickly realized Clark wasn't all he claimed to be over the internet!

You mean to say someone on the internet tried to portray themselves as something they weren't?

Heavens to Betsy, say it isn't so.

As Janelle explains it, Clark apparently had a "past," along with an ongoing relationship with a few questionable substances. And when we say "questionable substances," we're not referring to Tums and Blistex.

Janelle never quite explained exactly what Clark meant when he said he had a "past," but I think we can all safely assume having a "past" never means "I was a Brownie Troop Leader." More often than not, "past" means "jail."

Because of Clark's "past" he claimed he was barely able to provide for himself, not that he really even tried; having a job seriously cut into his pot-smoking efforts. As such, Janelle immediately became the heavy-hitting breadwinner of the household.

Janelle soon realized she wasn't ready to spend the rest of her life languishing with The Partridge Family Without Instruments, so she packed up most of her things and returned home to resume her education.

Well, not surprisingly, needy little Clark didn't like the fact that Janelle had left him to pursue this silly little "education" thing. Why did Janelle need an education when she could live with Clark and six other unmotivated people in a shoebox-sized townhouse? Wasn't his companionship more important than irrelevant nuisances such as jobs, bills, and dreams? Who was going to pay for Clark's Blistex?

The minute Janelle got home, Clark voiced his frustrations with Janelle in a two hour phone call. Going back to school was a stupid decision, he told her. It wasn't fair that Clark had to share Janelle with this "school" stuff, and it wasn't fair that Clark had to move out of his brother's house and across three states if he wanted to continue dating Janelle.

"He asked me why I couldn't just be happy with companionship. I didn't think companionship and being able to pay my bills were mutually exclusive things, but to him it obviously was," says Janelle. "It became painfully obvious to me that he would be much happier if I just took a job flipping burgers and was content to live with him, his brother, his brother's girlfriend, a friend of his brother's and that guy's girlfriend for the rest of my life."

Janelle wasn't much in the mood to explain herself further to this stunted toddler of a man. She asked Clark to mail her the remainder of her things, and cut off all contact.

Well, that made Clark's pants all poopy.

Poopy enough to send this sappy, guilt-ridden ode to Janelle's selfishness.

Slather it on Clark!

Janelle,

What to say, where to begin. How about with the obvious. Where’s your stuff?

Well, I’m broke & have no desire to spend my money on you.

As for the fridge, dvd player, and PS2 I don’t want your possessions. In fact I don’t want anything that reminds me of the once-friend you were. You’ve been more than clear on what you want. You’ve ostracized us from one another. Yes as lovers but more importantly as friends.

You’ve laid the blame at my feet since you left [redacted]…hell, before you left. Where was the compassion, empathy, respect & love that we allegedly had for one another? IF you cared about me you surely did not love me. If so your love is shallow. Reserved for those who don’t contradict you, for those who don’t disappoint you.

I know I have my share of faults and I accept you don’t want to be my love. You put physical distance, then emotional, then a total black-out. You simply removed yourself from my life. I lost someone I dearly loved. I lost the one person I thought of as a friend. Yeah, I’m bitter. You abandoned me.

Since, in all our long and immensely satisfying conversations, the closest you’ve come to accepting any blame, any responsibility, is to apologize for hurting me. How introspective of you! How honest! How fair!

Besides you can always do what you have been since July & just ignore me. Toss this letter in the trash, never finish it, never look back. In all honesty I don’t see why you would finish it.

You’re deaf to my emotions which is all this letter is.

You are callous & indifferent. You’ve hurt me deeply. I just don’t trust you anymore. That’s part of the reason I’m not paying to ship your belongings. Once the business of your stuff is over, so are we.

God it hurts to write that. Tears are in my eyes and my heart is throbbing. But this is the path you’ve chosen. That’s what’s so shitty. You chose and orchestrated these events.

Interesting. Makes me question other things.

I reckon none of those matter.

I’ve eat enough of your shit in the past year. Your motives are far from clear to me or perhaps I turn away from understanding. Whatever the case they don’t matter anymore. It’s your actions (or extreme inaction) that I’m focused on.

You’ve lumped me in the same group as your exes. I don’t really need to say much more on that.

Enjoy your island with it’s volcano.

Enjoy your success in the rat-race of capitalism.

Sincerely I wish the best of luck. I’m angry with you & feel betrayed but it doesn’t change the fact that I care immensely for you. Perhaps when you stop filling your world with distractions you’ll comprehend & maybe fucking care.

I wish to High-Heaven you had opted for communication instead of alienation. At least the friendship would’ve survived.

Goodbye.

And might I add: WAHHHHHHHH!

If the fact that you do drugs all day and can barely hold a minimum wage job didn't kill her libido, rest assured your impromptu guilt trip threw her libido in the desert for the vultures to scavenge through.

Here's an idea, Clark.

Stop snorting Tums and get a fucking life.

Or a job.