Stupid post-partum hormones. I can't stop crying about stupid stuff.
"Maybe Lucy's right. Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest."--Linus, A Charlie Brown Christmas
My fotki: http://public.fotki.com/nynaeve77/
Why do I care? Why should I care?
Clearly you don't. I am so sick of being the one to care.
How many times did I have to go through a whole routine to get you to tell me what was going on? How many times did I have to wonder if I had done something to you, if I had upset you in some way? How many times did it turn out it had nothing to do with me, but you couldn't just say "yes, I am upset about something, but I don't want to talk about it" instead of letting me think I had done something to hurt you?
And it eats me up that even now I still care. And wonder how you don't. Why is it so hard for me to just spit on friendship when it always seems to be so easy for you and for others? I got tired. I got tired of always being the one to speak. The one to make the effort--- all the time.
I still don't know if I did or didn't do something. Yes, I stopped asking. I decided it was enough. Aside from the fact that I know I didn't do anything that would lead you to assume that I was nothing but a true friend, aside from the fact that I did nothing that would lead you to think I didn't love you as my sister, we talked about this before. I said to you to come forward should you ever take issue with me. And you could not do that for me. So I had it. It's too much --- going through the same old song and dance practically every day.
And yet the sight of you still saddens, perplexes, and enrages. I may not be perfect, but I am not worse than that pathetic, phony twit and you know that. Or at least I would have hoped that you were perceptive enough to see that. I would have hoped that the love and friendship I displayed would have more weight and garner even a smidge of respect from you. But no, you now laugh it up with that fraud of a human being whom you couldn't (and I still believe can't) stand and yet whatever stupid, petty offense you hold against me keeps you from at the very minimum giving me an explanation. That is how little our friendship clearly meant to you.
And yeah, that does sit in the pit of my stomach, because I can't fathom not caring. But don't worry, I'll find a way.
I just accidentally caught an archived post of yours while looking back on some old posts of mine. It only confirms what I've thought about you for quite some time now. How do you even function on a daily basis?
I am the new Black.
"Hope the Mail are saving space tomorrow for Samantha Brick's reaction piece on the reactions to her piece about the reactions to her piece." ~ Tweet reposted by Rou.