You inconsiderate piece of shit. We’ve done a lot of fucked up things to each other, but I would never sink so fucking low. Fuck you. I would never say you weren’t the realist thing I’ve ever had, unfortunately you’re the realist thing I’ve ever known. So fucking ….cruel. Fuck you.
You don’t know what book I’m reading right now.
I spent so long with someone who needed to know everything about me, I thought I didn’t want it. I thought I liked how busy you were with your own life, you were so distracted with your job and your car and your friends, that you didn’t notice when I messed up. I thought that all of your important things made me just as important. But really, I’m just more lonely.
You don’t know what books I’m reading, or what grade I got on my midterm. You don’t even notice when I miss class or switch shifts to see you. You’re fifteen minute phone calls that consist of you being distracted by the tv the entire time just aren’t worth it.
And I should have known that.
I really want to get up, and leave.
But I see that scar on my knee, and I want to scream but I can’t even do that much. I’m just too tired to deal with it, i’m always too tired to deal with it. Too angry to deal with it. Too happy to think about it. Anything, give me something.I just don’t want to deal with it.