May 1st, 2006


(no subject)

Dear ****,

Yeah I know we go out. Were in love with eachother and I don't think I want to love anyone else ever again.
But theres a problem, and you know a bit about it. You know that I might be moving, yeah all the way to France.
You see, the catch to this is that, You see that promise I made you? The promise that I'll stay and I'll never leave you.

Well I broke it. and there is no way I can stay with you.

We have 4 more months, and a few more day's. And I just want it to last forever.

I promise never to make a promise again, because you'll know soon enough you can't believe me, And I'm sorry.

You're the only thing that keeps me alive, and without you I think I might die.

This situation keeps me crying all night.

I love you.

To the one person that I truly hate


You called yourself my friend, while behind my back you were fooling around with my boyfriend...repeatedly and for months. When I was out of my old house, my new house, my car, my bed. My bed for God's sake, you don't know how you've desecrated the places I must be in every day.

When my instinct told me something was happening I lashed out at you even though I felt bad doing so without proof. But you were my friend (I thought) so I went to you and cried to you, apologizing. Your casual forgiveness and false morals were a blatant lie: all the time I was right and my behavior was deserved.

You watched my life fall to pieces because of you and let it because you couldn't pick one from the hordes around you, you had to take what was mine. You came to my house and hung out like nothing was wrong, let me drive you to a concert three hours away and back where you groped him with me not a foot away. My family accepted you into their home; I cried inside, watching you put on your airs, seeing how familiar you were with him, how your body was tilted towards him... I knew, the whole time I knew, since the very first day.

Eight months of my life is gone because of you. I lost myself, I hurt myself, every day I wanted to die. Almost every night I wake up crying, every hour I am angry. Because of what you did.

Every shred of respect I had for you is gone, you lying, backstabbing cunt. Fuck you. Someday revenge will find you, with or without me. I hope you suffer miserably, I hope the person you least expect will trample on your heart, beat it and stab it and leave bruises that will never heal.


"Men are not punished for their sins, but by them."
"Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915)

(no subject)

Dear all the bitches who've made my life hell these past few years.
I love you.
I'm still confused as to what actually happened, who really started the whole thing. I'm the victim, I think I should know. All those 12 girls who made me want to cut and cry every single fucking day of 6th grade I want you all to know how much you've affected me. And now that my past's come back to haunt me a few years later, I guess you all should know my story...
Apparantly, I was the typical stereotype person. I was exceptionally smart, but I was the outcast. The intelligent, loser girl who everyone used. The one who was the last invited to parties and the first to leave. I had none of the right clothes, I never knew what to say around guys, and I was made fun of so much it hurt to get up in the morning. One day, the most popular of us, the queen bitch, decides she's had enough of me being the teacher's pet, and the smart one, she wants the spotlight (G-d, she could have taken it. Intelligence is a burden.) So she rallies up her followers and, like sheep they come running. They "do her bidding" in a sense that they terrorize and torture me everyday. Spreading rumors all over my small school, hell, even the first graders thought I fingered myself. And not a single one of anything they ever said was true. They attacked the two friends I had, telling them that I talked shit about them behind their backs and that I lied to them. But I never did that, so they were all the ones spewing shit. And I couldn't tell anyone, cos I'd look even more like a loser who goes and cries to mommy. One day, on the bus to a significant event in my school, all the middle grades were there, girls on one bus, boys on another, and I was sitting by myself in the front. My teacher comes up and asks me why I'm not sitting w/my friends and I tell her there's no room in the back. She makes my friends make room for me, and the whole ride there the mean girls throw garbage on me. Everything from spit-out sunflower seed shells, to crumbled cookies, juice boxes, and every gum wrapper from every fucking company you can name. And me and my friends just sat there and took it. Yeah, I had tears in my eyes, but what was I going to do about it? The event goes fine, and we all pile back up into the bus. There, they distribute apples among us. (You can imagine where they wound up) and they also gave out water bottles. They pitched those apples as hard as they could (to this day I cannot look at an apple the same way) and finally, after about the third or forth I cracked and the tears started pouring out. I stood up to run to the front and cheers of "Cry, baby, cry" erupt from behind me. The teacher escorts me to the front where I cry some more and bang my head on the window. When my mother comes to pick me up from school, she sees some stuff in my hair, and asks me what happened. I tell her and we run back to school to tell the administration. Then she gets on her cell to every parent in the class. The net day, everyone writes me an appology note. Sincerely, except for the queen bitch, who makes her full of sarcasm. And I accept each one of them with a smile, and a forgiving look. (Even though I hated every moment of it and I thought they should suffer) the queen bitch gets a meeting with the teacher and a threat of getting an unsatisfactory in behavior and getting left back a year. (Which I wasn't sure was punishment enough) And she appologized, and I accepted through gritted teeth. But to this day I still am not 100% sure who started it. Was it my "best friend" of the year, whom was also alienated once she pointed the finger at the popular girl? She was never my friend until the end of the year when they all turned on her and said she did it. But why would they follow her if she was a nobody? It still doesn't make sense. Although, second thought, I don't think I want to know cos I will hold a grudge for life.
And now, that the popular girl has left the school at the start of 7th, (mind you this is a few years later, I'm simply looking back on this all-you'll see why in a second.) --yeah, I got her kicked out of the school, but not to hear her tell it. She's buddied up with a few others, not as popular as before, but still got friends none the less. And although she's not to bother me anymore, cos I fixed it, she's gotten others to do her bidding for her. Namely a girl in my class who's her best friend. And it kills me that she wants to attempt to try this again. Even if its not directly her, the idea that they would try to get me again is beyond any common sense. Yeah, I'm not that loser girl anymore, but she's still inside somewhere. And its her that comes out at night when I think about the day's events, and it's her that makes me want to cut and cry and do so many things I'd be afraid to attempt normally. And I remember wanting to kill myself several times in 6th, but I held out. I don't know how or why, but I did. I had the "stamina" not to do anything. I don't know if it was out of sheer fear, or the fact that I didn't want to give those girls what they were hoping for.
I've reinvented myself now, and that loser girl is almost gone. But there's still a lock of hair right in front of my face that never curls the way I want it to, and always gets frizzy ane messed up...
I've changed the way I dress, totally against the magazines, whatever comes off the top of my head in the morning, and I definitely don't look like how I used to. That loser girl still smiles back at me in the mirror, but I've become a better person because of her.
All in all, I'm not sure whether to thank those girls or want to kill them all.
They've brought out a change in me, and I'm happy with that change.
I am a rebel now, I've gone against most of which I have been taught.
And just because I'm smart has never stopped me before...
These girls now don't know what's coming...
Although, then again, neither do I.
I don't know if I'll give it to them straight, or just be demure. If I'll yell and scream my head off or sit and take it and cry in class because I'm ripping at the seams...
p.s. Anyone want to share their mean girls story/comment on what I should do?
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