I wanted to remind you that you promised you'd make it easier. I guess you could say I'm a jealous lover, and, boy, does it sicken me, but every time you tell me you talked to him, it hurts. Initially because I'm disgustingly possessive. Then because I disgust myself. The more I disgust myself, the less secure I feel about you being near him. It's an awful, downward spiraling, cycle.
You love me, I know. But sometimes it gets so hard. I don't want to say a thing, because I don't want you to stop being yourself, but I think I have to. I don't want to be the person to say, "don't do this", because I know how it felt when you said the same to me, but I think I have to. I'm sorry.
Maybe I'll convince myself not to.