Of Course You Didn't.

Did you ever think this would happen?
Did you ever think we'd reduce to nothing?
Did you ever think you'd hurt me like this?
Did you ever think maybe it was your fault?
Of course you didn't.

Did you ever think you'd run from nothing just to say you were running from something?
Did you ever think you'd make me sick with regret?
Did you ever think your lies weren't actually protecting me?
Did you ever think to try honesty?
Of course you didn't.

Did you ever try to be somebody different?
Did you ever think you'd be in the grave before 25?
Did you ever believe a word you said to me?
Did you ever thank me for keeping you safe?
Of course you didn't.

Did you ever think what it felt like to be me?
Did you ever think what it felt like to be me?
Of course you didn't.

Did you ever think to ask forgiveness?
Did you ever think to apologize?
Did it ever occur to you to try remorse?
Did you ever really regret your depression?
Of course you didn't.

Did you ever admit that this was your fault?
Of course you didn't.
Of course you didn't.

Did you ever think you'd chase everyone away?
Did you ever think even I would become alienated?
Did you ever stop taking me for granted?
Did you ever think I'd have the balls to walk away?
Of course you didn't.

But you were always wrong.
Did you ever think about that?
Of course you didn't.

Dear X

*sidenote: I wrote this weeks ago.*

Dear X,

Do you remember that song called She is Love that came out last year?  The one everyone fawned over and all the girls wished was written for them? The chorus goes something like, “They call her love, love, love, love, love. She is love, and she is all I need.”
Well, I just thought you should know that song doesn’t remind me of you at all.
I would ask you how you’ve been doing the past few months since we last saw each other, but I really don’t have any inclination to care. I’ve tried several times to initiate a reunion, perhaps over a cup of coffee like the natives here seem to do, but you obviously haven’t quite caught up with the socially accepted way of life in this place yet. That’s okay, I’m sure someone will love you enough to wait for you to break out of your medieval  “keep your friends close so you can stab them in the back and create new enemies to play with” ways…. I’m sorry to bother you this way, you know, I’m sure keeping in contact with your “best friend” can be such a complete drag sometimes, but as you won’t return calls, texts or emails, I guess this old-fashioned thing called snail-mail will have to do. I just thought you should know I think you can be a real bitch sometimes. You and your ridiculous, teenager-wannabe, stuck-in-the-glory-days-of-high-school-when-people-actually-cared-about-what-she-thought mother can go rot in that place where drama leeches like yourselves normally frequent. What’s it called? Oh yeah, the past. You can only relive something so many times before you start to stick to it and eventually it sticks to you and then you become stuck in a time and a place which doesn’t exist anymore. Aren’t you lucky? See, while you’re reveling in the days when you actually had a minute shred of importance, the rest of us have gone on with life and responsibility and are finding out the world does actually get better and better the more you let go of the past. Unfortunately, for people like you, you never get to partake of that revelation. You’re too busy wasting away in coulda, woulda, shouldas. Awwwwwwwh. Tough luck, sweetums.

So now that we’ve established you’re a real, bona fide loser, what else can I do to completely rip apart your character? Let’s look at the way you treat people. Here’s a thought: you DON’T.  Treating people, by usage of the word “treat”, implies that you are bestowing kind actions, words and thoughts upon them out of the genuine goodness of your own dear heart. Obviously, you’ve never done that. Therefore, not only do you bestow nothing but spite, contempt and ill-fitted jealousy on those whom you call close friends, but you don’t even treat people right. You don’t even treat them at all. Wow! You’re a horrible person! Congratulations. I think Howard Stern is jealous of your evil capabilities.

Also, I know you like to think the world and all of its complexities and intricacies have the time to revolve entirely around you, but let’s get real, dearest. You’re at the bottom of the barrel, love! Nobody outside of your social circle even knows your name, and they probably never will. Sociology, anthropology, psychology, cosmetology… No matter what you try and decide to do with your life, you’ll probably quit because it’s “not a good fit for you” and that in and of itself is why people will never remember you. People don’t remember or cherish quitters, and somewhere deep down you know that which is why you cling to the only thing you’ve managed to finish in your life, and that’s high school.
Ouch.
Well we’ve come full circle now, and I guess this is the part that you’ve always been waiting for. You’re just too eager to say goodbye to people that make you feel threatened, because you know they actually have something in them worthy of knocking you out of orbit, and you can’t handle the thought of someone else dappling in your so well-deserved attention. Ccch. Sorry, babe. This is me knocking you out of your whole damn atmosphere. Take that, ‘star girl’. You always were too infatuated with space. You may follow NASA on Twitter, but that doesn’t mean Tom Fletcher will ever care about you. You’d probably make him barf.
Sincerely,
Me.

P.S.
The last time I saw a picture of your boyfriend I thought he was a woman. Way to go, you picked a real winner. It’s not often that men can pull off being mistaken for lesbians.
Cheers!

Are You Listening?

Are you listening?

I want to make this very clear. I am sick of you not understanding me. I know now what you’re really like, and I think you should know who I am, so you stop texting me.

You have a problem with women voting?
You don’t know what you’re dealing with.  Opinions like yours drive me to desire running for presidency, just so I can kick chauvinistic assholes like you out of this country.

Feminism was created because of men like you. You’re the reason you have to deal with us. Did you ever think about that? I bet you didn’t. You’re too preoccupied believing that all women are good for is child-rearing and home-making. I know how you think. I grew up in the same place. Women are subservient to men. God says so, right?
God also made women so that men could survive.  Think about that.

You wouldn’t survive in this world if it weren’t for all the women in your life.  And it’s not because your mother birthed you and changed your diapers, or because your sister is nice enough to feed you. It’s because you couldn’t do those things by yourself.

Men weren’t good enough to be by themselves in this world. God made us as a gift to you. We’re the special ones. Men are just dumb and incapable and lucky.

How’s that for knowing me?
I’m not going to cook for you every night of the week. There will be days when I would expect nothing less than for you to clean the house for once. I will not be expected to stay at home every day. I am not willing to give up my life for you.  Are you listening? Because I’m sick of you not knowing who I am.

I don’t pray over every meal. In fact, I often forget to pray for meals period. Does that make me a bad person? I really don’t think so. Do I need you in my life? No. I don’t. You are not God’s greatest gift to me, so stop acting like it.

I don’t know what you expect from me, but you shouldn’t expect anything from me at all. I don’t owe you anything. I don’t even owe you this explanation. I’m just fed up with your expectations, because they don’t match who I am at all. And if you really want to consider me, you need to take yourself down about 3,000 notches.

Do you really care about what I love? Do you really care about what I’m passionate about? Does me being excited about things make you excited too?
you never once asked for the web address to my blog. Do you even care that I write?

Do you realize that I demand to be respected?
Do you realize I demand to be worshipped, appreciated, cherished, accepted, acknowledged, validated, loved?

I’m not going to wait on you, hand and foot! I’m not going to drop everything just for the chance to hold your hand. I am perfectly willing to be single for the rest of my life, if it means avoiding men like you.

I know you think I’m sexy, and I know you think my food tastes good, and I know you think I’m funny.
but what about how I feel? What about who I am? Does it matter what opinions I have? What books I love to read, what I write, what makes me happy?

Please stop lying to me. Please just own up to who you are. I think sometimes you’re too worried about what people will think of you, so you try to please them. Stop trying to please me and just be honest with me.  Tell me that you’re proud of the fact that you can beat people up. Acknowledge that you’re too violent, and aggression is undesirable.

Own up to the fact that you swear too much, and that you don’t believe women and men are equal. Tell me the truth: tell me you’re racist. Tell me you don’t like my independence. Admit that you stop talking to people when they give you sound advice, because it’s not what you want to hear.

I’m not going to let this go. I’m not going to let you or anyone else walk all over me. I don’t deserve the way you’ve treated me. I don’t want you to ever treat my friends the way you have.

Do you know what the worst part out of all of this is?
I really fell for you.

I really thought this could be it for me, I thought you could be it for me.
I was impressed by the first time you texted me. It was in Irish.
I was impressed by the fact that you read Shakespeare, and I liked the fact I was the only one you ever told about that. I was excited about how you said sometimes you write your own rap lyrics. I thought your creativity was enough. It wasn't.
I loved your smile. (I still do.)
I got carried away with how wonderful you thought I smelled, and how nervous you got whenever I was around.

I was impressed with how many hours you worked in a week, and how you were balancing school, sport and work so well.
I thought you were incredibly good-natured and kind.
I thought you understood me.

The only questions you ever asked me were things like "Do you like Twilight?" and "what's your favorite movie?"

.... I liked the way my hands fit into yours that day when you taught me how to skateboard.
I loved how you would send me pictures all throughout the day of what you were doing, what you were wearing.. They made me feel so special.

You really are a sweetheart, but you're also dangerous.
I can't fall for you anymore. I don't ever want to love the way you lie, or the way it feels when you say hurtful things.
I know you probably didn't mean for me to find out about any of the things you said the other night,  but my friends are looking out for me. You shouldn't say such strong things to strangers. It can really backfire on you.
I'm going to stop replying to your texts.

You brought this on yourself.
Your sins will always find you out, and you have to learn to pay the consequences for your actions.

Are you listening?
You just lost something I like to think was pretty important to you.
And there's no-one to blame but yourself.
I thought that you really cared... but you didn't know me enough to care.

Beginning

Three cheers for everyone who reads this and doesn't hate me afterwords.

I write a lot.

When I'm upset by someone, or something, I usually write about it to feel better.

This is where I'll be posting everything I write after I'm upset.

No names, no explanations, no personal information.

Just words.

I apologize in advance if anything I say ever offends you.

I hope you get over it.