I am really a non-confrontational person, but when I hear that you are talking sh*t about me behind my back, it makes me feel even more sorry for you.
I’m sorry that I am not 15 years old and in high school anymore. Your words mean even less when I hear them from other people. If you have a problem with me, talk to me. We’re all adults here. Tell me about it. I’m sick of all the pettiness, avoid me, tell this person, whisper down the lane.
I really cannot be bothered with you as a human, and really couldn’t care less if you like me, dislike me, poke a voodoo doll of me with pins. I. Don’t. Care.
But just know, your pettiness reflects your character, not mine.