I want to think I'm scum but I don't.
I want to trust you but I don't.
I don't want to hurt you but I have,
even if you don't know yet.
I can never be happy like this
And it will never work out like this
And you'll still fucking love me despite this,
even if we parted ways.
But I'll never fucking tell you, because I'm a crazy sociopathic bitch and I'm not even overwhelmed with guilt. Honestly, you're kind of boring. I hate admitting it, but I know me denying it has only put a splinter between us. You don't do much besides be sweet to me and play video games. I used to have no ambitions too, and they're all still fuzzy ideas at best, but at least I don't let myself become static. I keep a constant motion of change and learning and experience.
Also, you gave me fucking bed bugs. At least Chlamydia only cost $60 to get rid of, and I get to keep all my furniture and stuffed animals.
You keep saying you want to learn to drive, but you always back out when I offer, or I'll decided it's great weather for you to practice and when I come to pick you up you'll be fucking drunk. Even if you could drive, you couldn't afford a car because you waste all your money on video games and action figures. Even I stopped wasting money on kids toys in the last few months in hopes of saving up for something nicer. I have a fund for tattoos, a fund for vacation, a fund for random fun shit. I've literally stopped blowing my money on any and everything that suits my current obsession. Did I drop $100 on a lolita coord in the last month just because I've been re-obsessing over it? Fuck no.
But I can't really be mad at you for staying the same, it is who you are. But who you are no longer seems to be compatible with me. I used to think you handled my breakdowns well, but really you just shut down and make me feel guilty for having bad anxiety (which makes it worse, by the way) and not handling it well. Like, you think that you loving me should fix all my problems but they're MY problems and you have literally no say or control over my handling of them. I don't mean I want to feel shitty all the time, but whether or not you're nice to me doesn't mean shit. My anxiety isn't going to be like "well, he has really good intentions and cares about me so I shouldn't have an anxiety attack in the driveway because I can literally not get my car out to go to work." It doesn't work like that. I may NEVER get better. I may, but I may not. But one thing I can promise is that whether or not you're trying to fix me will make no difference. No, I take that back, it makes it worse. It legitimately makes my anxiety worse when you pressure me to get better all the time. I've never felt so worthless and inadequate.
You drink too much. I know you keep saying "it's just a few beers," but I keep telling you that that's how it started with my dad. Next thing you know, it's a case every few days. You'll never seem drunk, but you'll always have a beer in your hand. You'll have a stressful night and you'll drink a little too much and even though you love me you'll be pushing me against walls and pulling my hair choking me because I frustrate you. Because that's how it fucking happened with my dad. I ACTUALLY TELL YOU THIS. This is very personal. I feel sick thinking about the stuff I've seen happen between my parents when I was little and every fucking time you have a beer after work just because, I see it in you too. But you keep ignoring what I say. The beer is that much more important.
And please stop bitching about your job and your friends lives. No, seriously. It's the same complaints every day with only the slightest update in information and I don't care. You think I love every second of either of my jobs? because I don't. half of my bosses at the one job are DICKS. My job itself SUCKS. Sometimes they ask the impossible of me and scoff when I fail. My other job? I'm learning a new job every single day (with ANXIETY PROBLEMS. just getting out of bed is hard). The supervisors get to stand back and watch and if I mess up it's actually a really serious deal, because we're making $40,000 trucks. It's a lot of emotional stress and pressure. On top of that it's usually physically taxing. My back hasn't stopped hurting since I started there. Also, most of my friends are shitty. Literally every good friend I have lives so far away that I can't visit them on my days off (because I have to take you to and from work, and the drive is too much. 30 minutes to fort wayne for you, an hour and a half to get to Portland, 2 1/2 for Indy. Spend a few hours there and have to fucking leave to get you. It'd be worth the drive, but it's taxing on my body to have to be alert that much with no break. I need breaks.)
My local friends are all flakes. Oh, you're friend knocked up some crazy girl and he hasn't been fun as often anymore because he's too busy being a father? Boo-fucking-hoo, Every time my friend has a new boyfriend I'll literally be a last priority. Every time I try to make plans with her she WILL bail, or be too broke, or be too busy (doing nothing). Do you remember the year when all of my work friends stopped talking to me? I still do. And it wasn't even them snubbing me because they were mad (besides Carrie, who was mad at me for being upset with her for talking to you and ignoring me. Yeah) it was because I moved 30 minutes away to the city that all of them go to regularly. It was no longer across the street and at their store so they just went off and forgot me. They still don't talk to me. It still hurts.
But you know what? I don't bitch about all of that to you because there's nothing I can do to change other people, and my job won't get any better or any easier, so it's better to just accept my life for what it is because bitching doesn't fix anything. If I can change it, I try. If I can't, I move the hell on. Obsessing over every little thing will only make them seem worse. You know who I miss? My best friend who moved to Indianapolis. My friend who lives all the way out in Portland. My friend who moved to Texas. Literally every reliable person I know is at least an hour away. You're just sad because your friend would rather be a father to his son that be a reckless party-er like he used to be.
People grow up and change, maybe it's time you did too.
XoXo,
S
(don't even get me started on how I feel about the OTHER 'you' because I could fill a fucking novel with it and I'd rather just not think about how I feel, because I have an undying need to be single and have space and I'm getting none of that from my boyfriend :\ but I don't want the space I'm getting from YOU. You mind fuckery douche bag. )
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