hate it when i'm trying to draw or write but my hands hurt so much that i can't focus at all and hhhrrrrnnnggg

(tl;dr at the bottom)

this one is just petty, and i'm too much of a pussy to actually do anything (though my friends do say i absolutely should) but:

wibta for filing a complaint (?) against my table group for a class?

i take culinary for one of my classes, and it's one of the saving graces of my otherwise utterly shit high school experience. and while i do enjoy the class, i've recently been put in a group with people who do absolutely nothing and it's been frustrating me. for example, as of the day i am sending this, we made zucchini fritters. the dishwasher and i, the sous chef, did basically all the work and the manager and executive barely did anything unless we actively made them. i can understand the manager doing nothing, since their job is to basically just supervise the kitchen and they don't get to actually cook (worst role for me ngl) but the executive chef, who should be involved in the whole cooking lab, just sat around and watched. now don't get me wrong, i love the process of cooking and making stuff, but it's a little tiring when it's me doing most of the work while other people just grab their phones (they aren't supposed to get them until the lab is finished and the kitchen has been cleaned, for sanitary reasons) and idle about. anyways, the manager at least grated the zucchini while i worked with the green onions and garlic i guess, and during this the executive chef just kinda. stood there and watched? he always had earbuds in and i don't really know what he does, but i thought he'd at least be mixing the batter. he did not, and turns out he really was just standing there the whole time so i mixed the batter after i finished up with my veggies. while i was doing so, i also thought that they'd have put the zucchini in a bowl or a colander or something and started sweating it with the salt, but nope. the two of them just sorta went off to do their own things (stand/ lean against the counters and watch) and so i panicked and dumped the stuff into the nearest clean bowl, and i did manage to get the executive to salt it. then when it was time to squeeze the water out, it was again my job to do so, though i am currently missing about a quarter of my nail on one finger due to it snagging and ripping off. at this point, i think i should mention i have chronic back and joint pains and headaches, and i was starting to feel worse and worse, so i once again asked the executive to squeeze the water for a bit while i snagged a pain killer. when i come back, not even a minute later, he's just dumped the thing into the batter mix, instead of fully squeezing it like i asked him to. then he hands the thing to me and i mix it and then i have to fry it. by the time i start frying, all the other kitchens have finished, we have like half an hour till class is out, and chef puts on hell's kitchen for the class. me and the dishwasher (who offered to help throughout the lab occasionally. she's a godsend.) make them fry the rest (one fritter). while i did do the dishes after it doesn't count since it was as a thank you to the dishwasher who helped me. but other than that, it's like this for pretty much every labs except for when i'm dishwasher, and even then it's not too different since it just means i have to go back and forth between cooking and washing dishes.

i vented to a friend, who also takes a cooking class (catering) about this and he says i should email about it to chef. now this is where the question comes in. i don't feel good about reporting it to chef since i don't want to be a snitch. i, too, engage in listening to music and chilling, so i get the joy of doing these things. if i were to tell the teacher, though, they'd get in trouble for it and i don't think i want that. and i might be biased/ just cranky. last lab, which was hamburger and fries, the guy who was executive today threw away the fries because class was ending even though not everyone got their share of it yet. this instantly put him on the "i dont like this guy" list of mine, and on top of that, i was already feeling a bit cranky and gloomy since waking up, and it was only further worsened by whatever class cooked in the kitchen before my class, who leaves the dishes all dirty and gross every time without fail (specifically, it was all three pans sticky with grease and a glass mixing bowl encrusted with a white substance that set me off today) so i might just be being harsh on them. i usually enjoy getting to cook and actually do things, and thus i haven't had an issue with the lack of help from my tablemates (is that a word) until now, so this could just be me wrongfully directing my negative feelings to them and blaming them.

tl;dr: people in my group in culinary class do jackshit and make me deal with the brunt of the work except for this one girl, friend says i should report their asses to the chef

why i might be the asshole:

i was already cranky and might be just making them the subject of my anger and blaming them

i usually enjoy getting to cook anyways

i might be biased against one of them since he dumped potatoes before i could grab my full share

snitch

why i might not be the asshole:

should not have to do pretty much all the work and they get the same grade despite doing nothing

still have to do most of the work despite chronic back and join pains and headaches + injury

having to actively get them to help me is a pain in the ass since they just go right back to doing nothing after half assing whatever they were asked to do

sorry if this is a bit all over the place, i am bad at articulating my thoughts and the likes, and am currently being fueled by spite, pain, and caffeine.

(@sousanon so i get a notif when this posts)

(playlist.)

i'm scared to live but i'm scared to die and if life is pain, then i buried mine a long time ago but it's still alive and it's taking over me, where am i? i wanna feel something, i'm numb inside but i dont feel nothing, i wonder why i'm in the race of life and time passed by look, i sit back and i watch it hands in my pockets waves come crashing over me but i just watch 'em i just watch 'em i'm underwater but i feel like i'm on top of it i'm at the bottom but i don't know what the problem is i'm in a box but i'm the one who locked me in suffocating and i'm running out of oxygen i'm paralyzed

Ever since Ermano pushed his step-dad off the top of the stairs - regardless whether or not it was to protect his mom - that teenager no longer felt … well, anything. That day played a huge role in who Ermano is today. Never did he believe he could be capable of taking a life and now Ermano makes up for it by helping everyone and anyone, even if he's saying no to himself. It truly is a growing internal battle especially in the world's current climate.

lately i've been wondering what's been going on i've been here before but i don't remember when and every time we get to where we're entering i feel my beliefs and hopes surrendering but i know i'll be coming home soon.

there did come a time during ermano's enlistment with the military when he questioned what he was even doing. soldier's eyes is the perfect song for that time in his life.

some people got the real problems some people out of luck some people think i can solve them lord heavens above im only human after all.

every now and then ermano questions if he is worthy enough to be part of the council, if jason chose right.

if the stars fall down on me and the sun refused to shine then may the shackles be undone may all the old words cease to rhyme if the sky turned into stone it will matter not at all for there is no heaven in the sky hell does not wait for our downfall

ermano never believed in a god. but there were times he'd ask the heavens why his life was always so hard. why him? a mental battle rages occasionally, especially growing up with a religious mother who prayed every night.

the only words you've said is, 'i like it when you hug me 'cause i kind of feel you love me' girl, i've never, never loved you but something when wrong like our colors faded can you feel it in the air? and in the way you're staring, babe.

the song for maggie, his ex-wife who he will always love for as long as his heart beats. ermano knows she's with someone else, and when he saw her again he breathed a sigh of relief. but they had been separated for too long and he understands that. @maggievasco

Yandere Larry x fem reader 🔇⛓

Shut up kiss and "let's see what's left in you for me to break"

NSFW my dudes hella kinky and extremely yandere Larry. Please forgive me for this😂 and thank you! I'm glad to be posting again to, it's sort of been helping me with some depression recently.

I was awoken by the sound of someone moving around in front of me. All I could feel was an immense amount of pain, everything hurt. From the feel of things it felt like I was still handcuffed onto the bed. Larry had fashioned a torture room from things brought back from the apartments including a metal bed frame topped with a dingy old mattress, a couch riddled with holes, and two metal tables that looked like they belonged in a hospital.

The sound of Sanitys Fall was playing somewhere near by and from what I could tell he had the lamp on. My eyes fluttered open to be met with his menacing grin. It was hard to believe now that I used to be in love with the man smiling back at me.

"Morning doll. I hope you got some rest I have lots of plans for you today."

I watched as he sat down a bag that I could only assume was full of more torture devices. He was pulling out a particularly sharp looking knife and cleaning it. The music was lowered a little more than usual and I could hear the sound of creaking of someone moving around in a room nearby followed by the distant sound of voices.

Since this was one of the few times he hadn't silenced me with one of his own devices I decided to take my chance and let out a loud sscream. "Help please someone I-" before I could finish he had pressed his mouth to mine shoving his tongue into my mouth to shut me up. I could feel the metal of his lip piercing hitting my tongue.

He pulled away a sickening grin on his face. "That wasn't smart pet." He growled grabbing a fistful of my hair. "I was gonna be nice and make sure the toys were clean for you but I guess we'll go ahead and get started if you so eager to scream." He whispered leaning close to my ear. I was terrified at what he had planned for me.

His hands traveled down to my thighs forcibly spreading them enough for him to get between my legs exposing my pussy to him. He had done this a few times now forcibly held me to the bed and fingered me, made me blow him, and occasionally ate me out. I've gotten smart enough to know not to cry or scream or beg for him to stop knowing it would only make things worse.

He eyed me intensely as he shoved his fingers into me roughly. "Not gonna cry or scream huh? Have I finally broken your will?" He asked pushing his fingers in deeper. I could feel my body betraying me by getting wet. "Let's see what's left in you for me to break." He smiled before removing his fingers. He unclipped my handcuffs from the headboard securing them together.

He got off the bed pulling me up with him. We both stood in front of one of the tables and the couch, he seemed to be thinking about what was best. "Bend over the table and make sure you spread your legs for master." He said in a lust filled voice. I bent over pressing my chest against the cold metal. Before I could move my legs he kicked them apart impatiently.

I could hear him shuffling around at the other table grabbing something. My body was shaking out of fear and from being cold. "Oh dont be scared doll your punishment will be over soon then I'll fuck you and make you feel so good after." He whispered roughly pressing his fingers into me again. My heart about stopped hearing those words. He was planning on fucking me this time? He moved them in and out a few times using his thumb to lightly trace my clit.

His fingers were replaced by something plastic. I couldn't help but wince as he pushed it all the way in and flipped the switch making it vibrate in my wet pussy. It somehow was both uncomfortable and pleasurable at the same time. I could hear myself letting out small whimpers and moans.

"Now pet your going to count each spank ok? If you cum before I get to ten I'm gonna fuck your ass if you're a good girl i'll fuck your dripping wet cunt."

Before I could say anything he smacked my ass with the leather paddle.

"O-one."

After each smack I could feel myself getting closer and closer to release but I had to hold out. My body was enjoying being tortured. Larry pushed the vibrator deeper before spanking me again.

"Seven!" I cried out feeling it building up even more. "What's the matter doll getting close?" He chuckled reaching around to rub my clit roughly. I let out a much louder whine feeling my legs shake. He smacked me again and increased pressure on my clit. "Eight fuck! " I moaned. He hit me the ninth time and I could feel myself coming undone. "Nine! P-please hurry m-master." I begged hating my own voice. Larry chuckled before delivering the final smack just as I felt my orgasm begin taking over me. "Ten!!" I screamed feeling him pull the vibrator from me and turning it off.

The next thing I heard was an unzipping sound followed by clothes shuffling. Larry pressed his entire length into making me whine. He began to fuck me like a dog in heat making my whole body slam against the table. I felt just as he had called me, broken. He broke my spirit and my will. I no longer wanted to escape or scream or run. I just wanted to live.

Even with

Him.

Even if this is what that entails.

After all he loves me. He protects me.

What's so bad about that?

~Lex💛

teeth

something i struggle with and have struggled with since about 10 is my teeth.

when i was younger i used to try and hide from my dad, i lived my entire life in my room. only went out to use the bathroom and get food/drinks. i didnt walk the dog, get exercise, i managed the occasional shower but that was about it. never took plates and cups out of my room, which is a whole 'nother issue. and i never brushed my teeth.

and I mean, i went years without brushing my teeth. its a miracle i didnt have any tooth decay for the first few years, i still dont get it. i ate sugary food (it was what we usually had in) but only ever had one tiny, tiny cavity.

this issue didnt get fixed when i moved into my mums house though. to this day it hasnt improved much. brushing teeth is not even near a "habit" to me. i have to consciously do it, and i am NOT good at that. i often go weeks without brushing, despite what im going through and the fear it causes me. I think it's some sort of self harm mechanism. ugh.

in the past year ive had my two upper wisdom teeth out due to huge cavities (partially my mouths fault, even if i had brushed there was no way to get a brush behind them. they might have ended up coming out anyway.) i've had two fillings, although i dare say they were more "reconstructions". My mouth almost looks like the shit you'd see on those "remember to brush your teeth or youll end up like this monster!!" posters.

I've undoubtedly got months and months, maybe years of dental work to come. and i don't like the dentist, so that's fun in and of itself. Before my wisdom teeth came out they caused me such severe agony i burst into tears at multiple times, and i don't usually do that. right now as im typing, my bottom right wisdom tooth has a giant cavity in it. no pain, thank whoever is giving me a break, but a huge hole. they might try and fill it, might just yoink it out. they don't know yet.

almost all my teeth have decay, most at the gumline. I had such straight, "perfect" teeth. they were so nice. i was often told how lucky i was to have them. I could barely get floss inbetween them. now some of them I can blow air through with ease, i never could before.

being a fat, feminine presenting person, its as if the world expects you to look immaculate, lest you be an UGLY fat person. thats just the worst possible thing. and this... when people look at a fat person sweating, or panting, they dont think "oh, they've been for a run." it's always connected to "oh look, a fat person, panting because theyre fat." its the same for teeth. oh, how gross must i be, never brushing my teeth, i must eat nothing but sugar. a disgusting gross fat person who doesn't care about how they look. Yet it's the exact opposite.

-

a note on the subject of diet; im vegan now. not the most immaculate diet but i eat good stuff. my biggest issue is when i eat; usually not eating all day. (shoutout to eating disorders)

-

While we should all still be wearing masks, i'm dreading the time it stops being socially acceptable to do so. every part of me, i put effort into. my makeup, perfectly winged eyeliner, my hair, dyed and fluffy and shiny, i always smell good, wear nice clothes. But I have this disgusting secret that fucking terrifies me, if im honest.

there have been times ive thought itd just be easier to pull them all out and get dentures. a 20 year old with dentures. hah. its a better option than offing myself, which on multiple occasions i've thought about. my teeth are the last few straws on the camels back, so to speak.

hm. a small piece of my lower front teeth cracked off today while i was playing games. its what made me create this blog, finally. what made me write this as my first post. when a piece of your tooth falls into your hand there is that flash of panic. You feel your gut sink.

it is sad, in its own way, that the feeling no longer lasts for me.

perfect, straight, whole, white teeth. its what people want. How do you even live a life without at least decent teeth? sometimes it feels impossible. the fat, enby, dyed hair, socially inept, bad memory, disgusting teeth student. who would ever take them seriously?

...tooth decay is never, ever talked about in connection with depression, or mental illness. if anyone else out there is dealing with the same thing, im sorry. it's a genuinely terrifying thing to have to deal with. but its not just you.

(Disclaimer: I am writing for myself. I know nothing I can say or do will persuade anyone who reads this in or out of any situation they are in. I come here to take off my kid gloves and let my actual emotions swing. I say whatever I want here, with no filter or expectation of any sort of rebuttal or communication. I do not write to change any opinions, save for that of my own.)

Writing as if I'm talking to you.. helps. I have this.. concept of you.. one that never really existed. And if it did? Only for moments. This idea that you really honestly cared about the thoughts and feelings coming out of me. The concept of wanting to hold my hand and help me sort out what my problems were. Basically how I would act when all the stress and anxiety and panic hit you. I dont exhibit those emotions the same way. THIS is how I have a panic attack. This is how I deal with anxiety. I can feel it welling up, building.. and this is my teapot whistling. This is how I pour myself out. This is self-care. Not just some indirect way to contact you. As I made mention in my disclaimer, this is for me. It's not for you. I dont think you fully understood that this was all a window into my mind. Just for you to peek because I trusted you, and only you, enough to see into my extremely personal thoughts.

So talking to this.. imaginary version of you that still cares about me.. helps. You dont know how to care about me anymore in real life. You gave up on me a while ago. Your actual version of care never went past yourself. Your version of "above and beyond" was sticking around when I was terrible to you. That's not what that is. That was just.. stupidity. I was always wrong to treat you that way, but you were stupid to let me treat you that way. We look back on the timeline and the only thing that broke that? Shock. Leaving me. Helping me understand that you /wouldnt/ stick around through me beating you down emotionally. I was in a place that was so dark, I couldn't even see what I was doing or how I was treating you. You were suppose to be the one to reach into the muck and pull me out by my ears. Instead you let it drag you down with you.

I'm not blaming that all on you, mind you. Two to tango. But it was like trying to put out a fire by waiting patiently for it to die out. That was never going to work. But you arent the type of emotionally intelligent person to know, understand, or figure that out. Sorry. That was always your weakest point. That was something I had to help you develop literally our entire relationship. I'd even say "train" if I was feeling more malicious. Do you understand that I've been this emotionally adept since I was 15? Do you get how hard it is to SEE someone flounder with it a decade later and then have them not believe you know what you're talking about because they just don't understand it? I was right about so much stupid shit it makes me sick. I was right to stop trying after you starting treating me badly. I was right about Tom. I was right about you distancing yourself from me. I was right about you not having faith in me. and even going farther back into our open relationship and thinking you would burn past my boundaries with little to no regard and Kenny. It felt like I was a psychic and no one would believe me.

This is all just idle commentary. This isnt the heart of my anger or where my anxiety stems. These are the facts. You were never good with my emotional things. Sure, youd let me cry into you chest when it all hit, which was correct first step... but that's not the full scope of what an adult needs. Adults need to be reassured. They need to know that you're ready to help them, even if you dont actually. Adults need to be loved and calmed and talked to and made to understand that you'll be there for them when the worst hits. This was how I treated you when things were okay. How I took care of you during your attacks. After nearly all of mine, I was always found wanting. Like I was some sort of.. obstacle. Like taking care of me was a hassle. Like you were doing it only because you felt obligation. I dont know if that's how you actually felt, but it's how you came off. It made me feel like you just wanted me to stop crying because it was annoying. and god. what a feeling that is. not wanting to share your emotions with your significant other because you were scared they resented your feelings. it doesnt matter. I shouldnt have to explain to another grown-ups adult. you should be emotionally capable by 30. you've had a lot of opportunities to practice.

no relationship is without emotional labor. not one. not even the one you're in. you just haven't quite got there yet. you dont know their dark sides, you dont know when the other shoe is going to drop. you keep your walls up, but it's only a matter of time. you will deal with their damages, with their flaws, with everything that makes up that human being because that's what every human being is: a bunch of flaws and merits rolled into one mess. so enjoy your honeymoon phase, because everyday is one day closer to it being gone.

These are tangents. this isnt even why I wanted to talk here. Maybe the lack of emotional intelligence thing. that was one. always so shocked to see I'm hurt or surprised to see that my feelings well up and cause me to burst. that's what new years was. I regret saying anything more to you than "happy birthday". I was in a horrible way. we werent talking. I felt used. I felt like I did back in middle school when the occasional pretty girl would lead me around by the nose until she got bored of me. I felt like you had used me for attention for the last 3 months. letting me plan all the things you never wanted to plan. put in all the effort to try and see you. knowing secretly that you didnt want me, but loved the attention of being wanted. I was so angry. Part of that anger remains.. but not for that reason. That's just the logic of what lead to my explosion on new years. And let me make this clear: this isnt an excuse. I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm not claiming the devil made me do it. these were my own actions which, even by myself, I am shameful and regretful over. These are the reasons that led up to it. I had just stood up to you and said I didnt want to be treated badly once I realized you were, in fact, doing that. And you were just fine to drop me. you didnt care. you didnt care about any of it. those months and time? you didnt care. so I said monstrous stuff. I said really horrible shit and even when you tried to stop me, i doubled downed on it. I wish I coudlve been logical. i wish your words could reach me while i felt that much anger. but they couldnt. not paired with the feeling that made me most angry: feeling emotional used by a pretty face.

You do understand that sharing my emotional experience isnt easy, right? If I was a good masseuse, it doesnt make massaging take any less effort.. in fact, probably more. Like talking to you, helping you decompress, trying to get you to understand better emotional habits? That was HARD. REALLY HARD. And then for 3 months I tried to have a relationship alone. Why let it drag on if you werent giving me a real chance? This is where I started to figure out where my true anger was coming from.

My true anger is something that time will not change. No matter what happens in our lives, the true anger is a permanent judgement against your character. it's a black mark I cannot forgive. It's a change of perspective in how i see, acknowledge, and respect you. It is the truth. And it all stems from Faith.

"What do you mean?" you ask. My eyes turning away from whatever I had been longing at to face yours, unblinking.

"Faith. It's a simple word with a very complex meaning. Very unique to each person who says it. Like Love or Sex."

"You remember the day I caught you. I came over and sat across from you, much like this. I watched you flail and cry and beg.. I watched you reach for me. In those moments.. You were the most honest you had ever been. In our relationship, perhaps in your life. You gave yourself up and wept. You wept for me to stay. You told me all your secrets and threw yourself to my mercy." I said, looking away mournfully.

"I had never.. seen such honesty." my tears teared up as I kept talking,

"I didnt know how to approach it, as angry as I was. I was so mad.. but seeing you be... actually honest was... disarming. I had no defense. I saw you for who you were. In all your flaws... in all your pain. You begged me. You exposed yourself and gave me everything and asked for another chance." my tears subsided slowly as I made my small side-glance back to your unwavering eyes.

"Faith. You were honest, but you were honest about being a cheat and a liar. No one in their right mind would want to enter into a bond with a self-admitted liar and cheat. But I had... Faith." the word being almost spit from my mouth, my face gently contorted at the thought.

"If there was one truth I knew about you, it was that you were a hard worker. I had faith that you would take this seriously. I had faith that with your sins laid bare, you could only ascend from that point. And so.. I made a choice." a light shrug followed by the ritual of removing a cigarette from my silver case. a smooth light and a pull later..

"I went against every fiber of my being. every angry bone in my body. every brain cell halting me. I said....'Okay' and that was that." Another long pull and my eyes drifted off to the wall, looking through them to that space that only exists in between everything else.

"And the worst part of all of this? I was right to do it. I watched you turn your entire life around. You started to dance again. you started to work out. and so your body issues became farther and farther away. You started down your burlesque career path. You started looking for better jobs. You found them and you got them. You became the girl I always saw and looked for. I was right to believe you and have faith." a quick laugh and another pull later, I adjusted myself in my seat, shooting a look back at her.

"You werent without mistakes, mind you. you had your stumbles. I couldn't tell you the exacts of them, because that was part of Faith too. It was the idea that I knew you could stumble, but those were to be forgiven if the rest of your progress was noticable enough to warrant it. And it was! You were turning it all around, slowly but surely. Who would I have been to get in the way of your progress by bogging you down at every little thing? I was happy to see you change from this secretive, gaslighting monster into.. into someone happy." the tears streamed down my face faster than I expected. I pulled my cigarette as if fearing the water would put it out. I cleaned myself up quickly, in a meek attempt to conceal it.

"But something we didnt account for was.. how far the damage of betrayal went. It coursed through my veins. it haunted me like a ghost. it STILL haunts me. I was betrayed by who i had loved the most. it was my most venerable covenant with myself. I hated you for it." I took a long drag while looking at her dead on.

"I /hated/ you for it. I was still honestly happy to see you grow and change. but I had a darkness to me that was inconsolable. so much resentment. It was like seeing your favorite, most friendly friend... and knowing they accidentally killed someone over the summer. it was this duality of love and hate. you were my heaven and my hell. I didnt know to negotiate the two." I cashed the end of my cigarette and sat my elbows on my knees, chin on folded hands.

"My true anger. Once it all hit critical mass. once you pushed yourself beyond. after the death. after I started to really abuse your emotions, you measured me. I pushed my last time and much like the man before me, you agreed. I left you and you finally agreed. I was found wanting and it slapped me in the face. In that moment, I saw myself. I finally admitted and saw what I had become. a shadow of myself. a ghost of a kind man grown cold. It was like putting on glasses or a hat that fit. I was shocked. I was cowed. I was ashamed and I was repent. So many feelings at once strangled me and the one that erupted over them all was the loss of you. You were the trigger. You were the harsh truth I needed to hear. I shoot myself through the foot and you were the smoking hole that let me understand I wasnt okay." my eyes looked away shamefully, moving back in my seat. with an uncomfortable adjust, I continued.

"I...begged you. I found myself on the other side of that table, so long ago. caught within my own impulses and my worst behaviors. a victim of my own design. that person i loved and cared for so close and so far. I cried and I pleaded. I admitted my guilt and my sins and threw myself to you like you had shown me." my face contorted in what started as sadness, but transitioned into a crying glare.

"I asked you. with all my shit laid bare. I asked for another chance. I asked for your faith!" my eyes turned away, shaking my head, looking down.

"I dont know why I thought you had the emotional acumen to do what I had done. to give me the honest chance i had given you. hell, I helped develop those skills in you and that was my HARDEST emotional choice. thinking that you would.. that you COULD do that was irresponsible of me. But you said, 'yes.' maybe just to mirror me, maybe because you werent ready to lose me. whatever the reason, you signed a check your heart wasnt ready to cash."

"every misstep I made sent me right back to start. you didn't care that I was making progress. you didnt care I was taking better care of myself or moving towards the things o wanted. none of that mattered. you were done before you knew you were done. you let me.. twist and writhe and letting me make a fool out of myself trying to beg you to allow me the priviledge of courting you. Do you understand how fucked up that is to do to someone you've known for that long who is trying their hardest? I know I had a hard time trusting you originally, but I knew that was /MY/ problem and not yours. I worked on it in my own time and figured it out. you put all of it on me. you FOUGHT ME ABOUT TOM." I was yelling at this point. I tried to calm myself and take a deep breath, but those words rang over and over in my head.

"....you even admitted I was right to think what i thought. that means you admit my warning my legitimate and that means you were wrong to fight me and defend him. that was one of our last fights. and you never realised it wasnt really about him. it was about how you would more likely defend a friend that didnt deserve it, than believe someone who earnestly loved you. you have a Stockholm syndrome with your friendships and I'm tired of pretending you dont. It is not a strength and if you were smart, you wouldnt give away so much power to people you dont fully know. But whatever. I'm not here to advise anymore." another breath. another sigh. the last tirade.

"You gave me a chance without faith. you had no plan to work with me. you had.. no faith in me changing. because you needed me to change in a way that you understood, not in a way that actually benefitted me. Many people have come up to me unprompted to tell me they were impressed by what they had noticed. they still do. they talk about how much better off i am without you. how stronger I am." quiet tears cascaded down. soft, gentle ones. truer than the angry ones.

"...then why dont I feel strong? why dont I feel better off? you didnt.. didnt understand how to have faith in someone. you didnt believe in me. you saw me at my lowest and you turned away from me. all you ever understood was what could benefit you. even now. even with him. it's all about what you can take from it. you're a narcissist. the thing you loved most about me was what I could do for you. how I could take care of you. you monster. you used me. you used my infinite heart and blackened it. I learned nothing from you. that's my true anger. you looked away when I needed you most. you were there for better, but not for worse. I gave you an honest, real chance. what you gave me? it was nothing. I tore your stupid poster down. threw away your stupid clothes. our last talk? you wanting my body and still getting his. I am still the cake you want to eat while already having one. I just exist as someone to take from. I will always exist in your mind as a place to only take. if Death finds you? You will call upon me to take emotional solace. if Chaos finds you? you will call to take stability. I do not exist unless I benefit you. unless I serve. I had served you enough."

everything I was put through after Magnolia was hell. I know I complained about it, but I loved going to Magnolia every time. It was my first home. I loved exploring and going different ways.. seeing my old homes. the old streets. That was where our happiness died.

I forgive you for all the other things, but I can never ever forgive you for losing Faith in me. I forgave you after cheating on me and seeing someone behind my back. you couldnt forgive me after my heart was destroyed and my family died. you are self-centered. In the end, you dont care about others, you just care about how it affects you.

must be nice.

ps. I'm considering leaving her. not for you, but for me. I need something light and meaningless. youd probably fit the bill if you werent so embroiled in your own selfish gains. but I'm sure the feeling of anyone filling up that space in your bed in your wrecked room is good enough. whether you know them for a few months or 8 years.