June 7th, 2006

cute

(no subject)

dear best friends,

i hate you. i hate you guys and how you're all caught up in everything that you're not supposed to be.

tristan, you were the most down to earth person i'd ever met. casual about everything. didn't care. cared alot about certain things but those things were normal. now you're slowly climbing the ladder of "popularity" and you're the biggest bitch in the world. i hate how you laugh every single time i tell you something bad. i hate how you're just a bitch. i hate how you call me a bitch all the time, because i do bitchy things, but look at it now. you're just a bitch in general.

casey, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO SWEET INNOCENT CUTE LITTLE PERFECT CASEY. shit, i can't wait til you're a major drug addict cause thats where you're headed. seriously, if you keep acting like this, nobody is going to want to be your friend. you're like a 10 year old on crack. and you're acting so bad and not making a big deal out of it, but your 14 fucking years old. yeah, i know everybody else does it but SERIOUSLY, YOU DONT. you didn't, why the fuck are you starting now? we're going to the same highschool next year. don't expect to be buddy buddy with me. oh, btw, i hate allie, too.

love your amazing best friend whos oh so wonderful,
amber.

p.s: you guys are shit. i don't have time for the shitty things in life, i surround myself with good things. you aren't good things. don't expect anything from me.
ack

(no subject)

A,

I wanted to remind you that you promised you'd make it easier. I guess you could say I'm a jealous lover, and, boy, does it sicken me, but every time you tell me you talked to him, it hurts. Initially because I'm disgustingly possessive. Then because I disgust myself. The more I disgust myself, the less secure I feel about you being near him. It's an awful, downward spiraling, cycle.

You love me, I know. But sometimes it gets so hard. I don't want to say a thing, because I don't want you to stop being yourself, but I think I have to. I don't want to be the person to say, "don't do this", because I know how it felt when you said the same to me, but I think I have to. I'm sorry.

Maybe I'll convince myself not to.

Worried, C.