• Why?

    by  • March 3, 2012 • * Safe for Work *, Anger • 0 Comments


    Why? That’s what I ask myself a lot of times. Like, “Why do I still think about you?” “Why do I still check up on you to see how you are?” and “Why are you trying to fool everybody when they already know what you are?”

    I’m not stupid, and you know I’m not stupid. Yeah, you have a girlfriend who lives an hour away and you go see her every weekend so devotedly. You post pictures of you kissing her on a beach, you make it seem like you’re so in love with her — hell, you gave her a fucking ring for Valentine’s Day, but it’s a facade. I’m not stupid.

    It’s had to have been at least a few months now; we were at the same frat party, and you were so drunk you were dry-humping anything with a pulse. When I took note of you walking upstairs with a girl, hand-in-hand, I went upstairs to say hi. Your response after hearing my voice and feeling me tap your shoulder was to mule-kick me in the kneecap. You’ve picked up on how perceptive I am, huh?

    You’re still the same jerk-off you were six months ago. You’re a cowardly, childish fool. Y’know, the kind of person who would walk into a store and buy everything without any self-control, because they can. That’s you, only instead of buying something you just stick your measly, lacking penis inside it.

    Cut the shit. It’s one thing if you did these things to me time and time again, because we didn’t have a label, but if you have a girlfriend who has a ring from you and all these huge plans, fucking act like it. I may have put up with it, but there’s a hell of a lot more girls who wouldn’t. Either be committed to someone, or be a typical college freshman who brings home whatever girl they want.

    I’m glad I haven’t seen you since you almost sent me to the hospital. I’m sure if I saw you now there’d be no doubt that I would give you a reason to visit the ER at 1am.

    Grow the fuck up.


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