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.
I don’t wanna. I can’t. Stop making me.
I’m at that point where I am so close to graduation, so it would be a total waste of an investment of $80k+ to drop out, but not gonna lie, I consider it daily.
College would not be so bad if there wasn’t homework and we got paid to be there. Oh right, so a job.
College is a job and I’m not even getting paid. And don’t whine at me with this bullish*t about “you get paid with grades and a degree.” No. That is not payment. That is good collateral damage after sleepless nights, billions of written words, grade haggling with professors, and so many meals not made by my chef/genius mom.
I thought that last semester was hard. I was a whiny lil b*tch because I was heart broken, I was eating my feelings and London was 3,500 miles away. But no, nope, I think it might just be that being a senior sucks.
I can’t d*ck around with my friends every single night because the thesis writing has amassed in not sleeping due to writing endlessly. I can’t keep drinking because my liver can’t handle it. Neither can my metabolism. I have to find a job because I have to pay my student loans six months after graduation. I have to pay rent and bills and still have spending money when my friends want to do adult things like having real conversations over a nice dinner. What the hell?
I’m over it. Can I be a junior again? Less commitment to adulthood.
What’s good, f*cker?
Have you lived a full life? Are you happy with the things you’ve done? Could you die right now knowing that you left your mark on the world? Because if not, you might want to get those things in line because I’m about ready to kill you.
Nothing is worse than seeing your best friend sad or upset or crying, especially nothing is worse than when it is caused by someone that you know is so not worth their time. Watching them trying to figure out what “they did wrong” makes me want to vomit.
You are just an assh*le who didn’t recognize this beautiful creature lurking right before you, and abide by their simple request, whether it be for space or for more of your time. So, basically, if I didn’t already think you’re an idiot and scum, I certainly do now.
I also can’t tell you how many times I tell my best friend to let you go. And just know, that if they ever do go back to you, I will bite my tongue since you’re already dead to me, but the second you slip out of line, you’re toast. I know people who know people. The Jersey Italians will know your address.
A Supremely Pissed Off Best Friend
Hello you assh*le,
Remember me? The girl you asked to meet you at 8 for a drink and then never showed up? Twice?
That’s right, not once but twice you stood me up. No text, no call, nothing. On Sunday I was annoyed and my feelings were hurt, but then on Monday morning I woke up with a text message explanation and an apology.
I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt because I’m not a cold-hearted bitch and I understand that things do happen; life comes up. We rescheduled for another day. So the second chance rolls around and guess what? You do it again.
Two F*CKING days later. You stand me up. Again. With no text message or response when I call you to make sure everything is okay. No call back and no explanation.
Then comes another lame-o excuse in the morning via text. Grow a pair man. You’re such a prick that you couldn’t even call me.
Well, I’ve got news for you: you are such an idiot.
I’m not interested in people who waste my time and I have way more self-respect than to let someone, who ultimately is irrelevant, treat me as someone who can be cast aside but will still come crawling back when he says a few pretty words. I’m not desperate honey, you should try someone with a little less backbone if that’s what you’re looking for.
In the long run, I guess that you did save me some time. I didn’t have to go down this long twisty path to figure out that you’re scum. You proved it pretty quickly with limited emotional engagement on my part.
Actually I feel pretty sorry for you. You missed out on your chance with more than likely the coolest and funniest girl you’d ever meet, not to mention the opportunity to witness my stellar ass in person.
Go f*ck yourself.
Ever have someone in your life who treats you like a total defective?
Maybe they baby you. Maybe they walk on egg shells when they speak to you. Or maybe they constantly question if you’re sure of yourself.
Newsflash: I am sure and I am not easily broken. Your coddling is just pissing me off.
Talk to me like I’m a human being. Don’t talk to me like what you say is going to break me or set me off because trust me, there’s been a way more important person in my life who did that a long time ago. It’s not so easy to do again.
I would much rather you not speak to me, to be perfectly honest. The constant questions, “are you okay?” and “are you sure you want/don’t want to do that?” are doing nothing but make me feel worse.
I have this problem lately, because I have been very, very sick for a while. It has given me the worst brain fog and for some reason the total inability to remember anything that I need to remember.
Okay, so you’re probably saying, write it down!
Yeah, I do.
But I’ve been so damn out of it that I have written things down on the wrong due dates or at the wrong times and it has supremely messed up my schedule and my capacity to function as a real human.
I haven’t written a quality blog in over a week and I think I’m going to die. I promise that I’m trying to get it together.
Last night I did something I try not to do.
I got lost in all my thoughts of you.
I smiled. I laughed. I frowned. I cried.
I remembered how we said goodbye.
I fell asleep and dreamt of when
We talked all night; you held my hand.
You taught me things I’d never know,
Still so hard to let it go.
The dream; a distant memory in my head,
Shattered when I reach out to your side of my bed.
The place that once was hot like fire,
The heat that your warm adoration once inspired.
Now, it’s lonely, quiet and cold as winter’s first frost.
Leaving me with shivers to the core and feeling lost.
And I keep on wondering, is it the story untold?
Is my side of your bed just as cold?