Author: Hellcat The Wicked
Disclaimer: Nothing 70's is mine. I wasn't even alive for the 70's.
Summary: Jackie writes a letter to Steven, explaining her thoughts about "The Stripper" and how much she regrets the way things ended between them.
Dear Steven,
You told me you didn't want to get married. All I needed was to hear that you wanted to be with me, that you weren't going to leave me. But you couldn't do that...not for me. I tried to prove to myself that you and I had a future, that we were going to be together, and that I didn't need to know that you were going to be there in ten years down the road, or twenty, or even thirty, when I'm old and are into my second face lift. The only thing I ever needed from you was your love, your assurance, and your compassion.
But you didn't give me any of that. When I needed you, you were cold, uncompassionate, and cruel. You spoke snidely, and insisted that I sickened you. You had no regard for anything I might have felt or needed, and only thought of yourself. Even in bed, you were selfish. Passionate, charming, and completely, totally, self-oriented. The only time I ever felt connected to you was when we slept together. That was the only time you gave yourself to me. When you held me, it was with a tenderness that I didn't know you even possessed, and it was enough to give me hope. It was enough to make me feel loved. But when those tender moments stopped, and you couldn't even offer me hope...well, can you really blame me for leaving?
And why were you were so surprised, so wounded, to see me taking comfort in Michael? You should have known that I would never...you knew I didn't do anything wrong. I would never hurt you the way you hurt me. The way Michael hurt me. The way every man I've ever loved has hurt me. And besides, Michael and I were always close, whether we were lovers or otherwise. We always understood one another, and we've always been able to comfort each other, no matter what was going on with our lives. We like to take care of each other. That was something you and I never shared. Why didn't you want to take care of me the way Michael did!
And then...and then you showed up and you started making assumptions. You didn't let me explain, you wouldn't let me tell you that I would never do that to you. You just left! You knew I loved you, and you just threw me away. In my place, wearing a little gold band that should be mine, is that girl. The Stripper. She can't love you the way I did. You have to know that, don't you? That no one will ever love you like I did? Of course you do. You're nothing if you're not egotistical. Of course I loved you – you'll say. Of course I found you sexy, and needed you so passionately. You're Steven Fucking Hyde.
What you didn't expect is that I just can't let myself love you any more. The hurt is too deep, and I'm so beyond tired of being hurt by you.
How dare you tell me that you're not ready to marry me, and then tell me that you're already married to some cheap, blonde bimbo. What's worse, you agreed to stay with her! You stayed with her not more than a day after you told me that you wanted to be with me, but you "weren't ready to get married." You weren't sure if you would ever be ready to get married. I was ready to give up my life's dream, the only thing that you and I had not shared, so that you would stay. I would have been happy to give up everything for you, because you showed me that having everything meant nothing if I didn't...if I didn't have you.
You never even really broke it off with me, you just...faded away. You were unaffected by me, by anything I said or anything I did. You weren't wrapped up with your new wife, but you weren't wrapped up in me either. I want to hate you. I want to forget what we had, and how little I must've meant to you, for you to give me up so easily. Maybe I should go back to Chicago. I can't stay here, Steven. I can't be the girl I used to be. I can't pretend that you and I were never together. I wish I could have been the one who ended it, that I could have thrown you away as easily as you threw me away. Its not too late. I don't need you anymore.
I don't ever want to see you again, Steven. I don't even want to look at you. I'm leaving this trashy town and my trashy ex. Eric had the right idea, going to Africa. I'm going to Paris. I've always wanted to go to Europe. You wont care. By the time you read this I'll be on a plane – first class, of course. You'll read this and toss it aside and go screw your sluty little wife, and forget all about me. I don't care anymore, Steven. I finally get what it means to be truly Zen.
I wasn't lying when I said I swore off men. I just should have been more clear. I've sworn off men like you.