I don’t want to tell you everything is okay anymore because it’s not… It’s always been this never resting, push and pull of uncertainty between us. Either we’re best friends, getting married and building houses with secret passages, or we’re never going to speak again or even live within the same 500 mile radius. Maybe I’m just growing up or maybe my trip to see you cleared some things up… But I tried. I wore a dress. I spent $30 on cupcakes. Nice fucking cupcakes. I talked to your parents, and really talked for the first time in years. We listened to Alanis Morissette and she belted out words that I now feel when thinking about you. You suck.
I hate that you told me you thought about saving up for an engagement ring by putting spare change in a coin jar. I hate that you still wear my belt, because it’s a girls belt and I know you let other girls touch it. I hate you so much that I deleted you off of all social media platforms, just so I don’t have to look at that belt. It’s from Abercrombie Kids, you’re too old for it, even though you are the biggest man child in existence. I used to keep you on my friend’s list, reasoning I want you to see how awesome my life is and be jealous that you’re not here. I’m finally realizing that it was so I could keep track of your life, even when you decided to ‘simply be selfish’ and not speak to me. But I can’t stand even that anymore, so since you’re such a self-absorbed narcissist I’ll leave you to yourself. I’m sucking the poison out of my life (Mean Girls quote of the day) and you don’t deserve to see my statuses or photos of my adventures, not until you learn how to control your passive aggressive actions and become a real person. Yes, I realize the indirectness/irony of this post.