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Just for posterity:
Dear You,
I wonder if you remember all of those times when you said that we were best friends and that you would always be there for me. I wonder if you remember saying that—and meaning it. I used to think that you had meant it, but now I know that it was a misguided lie. It really does sound like something you would do, you know, like telling somebody that you loved them, and then turning it all around one day with no explanation and destroying everything good you had with that person. Severing all ties with them or throwing them away like they were a piece of garbage.
Six years of my life were wasted on you. Years that I used to look back on and smile about, days that I remembered with laughter. You destroyed that, and for no reason that I can think of. You’ve done it again, so congratulations on screwing up, again. You’re so stupid for thinking that you can do this over and over and not mess up again! You just destroy everything, don’t you? Well good luck with that then, ending up alone and lonely and sad and telling yourself that it was the other persons’ fault, and not realizing that it was your own.
You’ve pushed me off of the edge, you brainless conniving bitch. I hope you know how much grief you’ve given everyone in your life. You’re spoiled rotten to the core, and the sad thing is that you’re actually proud of it. You whine until you get your way, and you drain people of all energy, and in that way, you’re uncaring and rude. There are so many other ways that you are uncaring and rude, but by being a spoiled brat, you’ve achieved a higher level of uncaring rudeness.
There are some comments that you have said that I can’t remember ever getting anything good out of. In fact, the more I realize how much shit you’ve told me, the more I realize you were trying to stroke your own ego, which is already disgustingly big-headed. You would put me down, compliments were a rare and sometimes two-faced thing to come from you. I always assumed you wanted to mold me into a better person, but apparently you just wanted to feel better for yourself.
Remember when we were both so “insecure”? Well, you still are that insecure. You lied to yourself, and by doing that, you lied to me. You’re probably the most insecure person I’ve ever met. Everyone can see this. You call yourself so brave and strong, when really you’re a big liar. I should never have believed anything you’d ever said. So many lies you’ve uttered that I believed, that my subconscious had told me were lies. I guess I should have listened to myself those times. The time that your brother’s friends half-raped you (what in the hell is half-raping anyway?), when that kid Josh or whatever choked you with that pink leather chain on your bedframe that you didn’t even want hanging up in your room (and yet there it was four years later, still hanging there!) and that I later saw you playing with lovingly, when your dad crawled into bed with you and attempted to touch you, you yelling at your dad. Yeah right. You wouldn’t even have the balls to do that type of shit.
By the way—just because you started wearing or saying or becoming (another lie, you’re not bisexual, you fucking liar) something, and you’d never before noticed other people wearing or saying or becoming or doing the same thing, does not mean that they were following you!! And don’t act like you’re easily over things—such as Presley—you were never into punk before that. You started calling her a poseur and then all of a sudden you’re a Clash and Misfits and Casualties fan. Now who’s the poseur? Let me give you a hint—you are.
The less I see you, the better I feel. The days that you were not even a thought, were some of the best days. The ones where I was happy and felt good about myself, because, let’s be honest, all you did to me was make me feel bad about myself when I know for certain—that I will always be a better person than you.
So, you’ve called me selfish. HA! HAHAHAHA! HYPOCRITE! I hate hypocrites. You’re a hypocrite, therefore I hate you. I can’t believe someone as selfish as you can call me selfish. You’re really, seriously that stupid? You’re ten thousand times more self-centered than me! All you can talk about is yourself; I could barely get a word in when I was talking with you. I was talking to a brick wall! That’s about the quality of a conversation with you (which is really not even a conversation), is a brick wall.
Hacking into my MySpace and changing things is the best you can obviously do. That just proves your petty, immature self. Guess what, idiot? I can type too. In fact, I can take everything that you’ve changed and get it back to what it was originally. What a shock! Deleting things that you like as well? That… is… so… PATHETIC! What are you, a ten year old girl?! You can’t stand to see me like things that have molded my personality. You can’t stand to see me liking things that you yourself like! That’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t care who introduced me to what- I still will like what I fucking like, you immature, petty, idiotic, stupid, juvenile, unintelligent, self-absorbed, egotistical halfwit! You can’t change me, and you never will! I AM WHO I AM, AND I CAN BE PROUD OF IT, UNLIKE YOU!
So I’m done with you. Done with your bullshit and your lying and your deceitfulness and your cold, empty heart and soul. I hope you get a strong fucking kick in the ass from Karma herself. Special fucking delivery, you petty, immature, stupid ,conniving, evil, lying, condescending, unappreciative, hypocritical, biased, rude, uncaring, spoiled, whining, droning, annoying, poseur bitch.
Forever your ex-friend (who regrets every moment she spent with you),
Me.
relieved
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ecstatic
productive
high
depressed
excited