This farce that you call a romantic relationship ends now. If you should feel shocked or grieved by this news I really don’t care.
You want to know the reason? Here it is: you’ve never loved me and I have too much self-respect to be with someone whose feelings are as insincere as yours are for me. I’m sure you’re completely dumbfounded now and really keen on talking me out of this folly. Don’t waste your breath.
Truly, I also tried to convince myself that you actually loved me. But whenever I thought about the reasons why you would be in love with me the only thing that came to my mind was my skin color. I’ve become increasingly aware of the fact that the only reason why you’re in love with me is some stupid political statement. You want to be with a black to show the world how incredibly politically correct and beyond racism you are. The idea of being with me is the ultimate wet dream of your self-righteous nature. As soon as we got together, every conversation we had with others evolved around you telling everyone what a struggle it was to be black and what obstacles we’ve overcome in order to be able to live our love. Don’t you think I see how much you’ve been enjoying yourself, giving your little expert opinions on “being black” to your friends? If you can’t see that you’re even dumber than I thought.
You saw me as an entrance card to the racial debate. I’ve stopped counting how many times you’ve used the phrase “as a person who’s dating someone who’s black…” whenever you wanted to throw in your opinion on any race matter. Seriously, there’s no other reason why we should be together! We like different things and have different friends. I think your certainty of knowing exactly how the world could become a better place is childish. And, if I weren’t black, you’d probably call me boring and conventional.
You were never in love with me. You were in love with the idea of being with someone who’s black. Your love is so incredibly self-indulgent it hurts my pride to think that I haven’t broken up much earlier.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find somebody who loves me for something more than just my level of pigmentation. I’m sure there’s someone somewhere. You can go on finding another black person (or, hell, why not someone who’s transgender or handicapped?) with whom you can continue to be the self-righteous fuck you are.