Sunday, December 13, 2009








To the girl that broke his heart:
Thanks a whole lot. You singlehandedly ruined everyone’s hope for finding true love by breaking the heart of the most pure, genuine and likable boy I've ever come across. I've never seen the kid not smile ‘til now. There were several problems with your approach, but I'm gonna focus on the major ones right now. OK, so you break up with him two days after he gets back to college when you've seen him all week? Are you that much of a wimp that you can't just say it to his face after treating him like shit for the whole week he was with you? Secondly, jealousy is a motherfer. It's unattractive and makes you look foolish in every way especially if it's in public on Facebook. Really? Are you gonna give him shit for a profile picture when yours is you with another guy? Lastly, if he knew any “sluts,” he sure was holding out on me. There are no sluts in this god forsaken school and if there was, your ex would not be the type to associate himself with them.
What are you hiding? He's never been anything but sweet to you. I'm glad it's over — at least he can find himself a real woman that will treat him as well as he treats everyone else and not have to deal with your high school bullshit.


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I can't believe you. It absolutely kills me that we were best friends, and no one would ever guess that you completely broke my heart by watching us. The day you broke up with me — I have never felt that kind of pain. My heart ached — still aches — when I think about it. I felt worthless, ugly, awful and not worth the effort to make things work. But I hid all that because despite my deepest effort to hate you, I just couldn't. I liked you too much, your company, how you make me feel. Slowly, we built our relationship back up. Now, we're better friends than ever. We can tell each other essentially everything. We have moments where everything is so perfect, it's like why aren't we going out? But no, you like my best friend. Which apparently you don’t realize how much that hurts. Let me tell you this: it hurts. A hell of a lot. I can't watch it. You make me hate myself for not hating you. Yet everyday I put up this facade, like my heart isn't slowly tearing into tiny little pieces. You never really loved me, but you made me fall in love with you. And yet you have no idea. So we will remain best friends because I am too pathetic to sever ties. Best friends forever and nothing more...

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I honestly don’t care if this sounds like I’m blaming you — partially because I am and partially because I have little to no respect for you. You have put me down ever since I can remember. I don’t think I'll hold on to the few good memories; I hope to God though that I'll forget the bad. I can’t stand how you victimize yourself when you do nothing to better your situation. You claim that compassion is the way yet when you see me crying with my hands on the floor, you walk away but continue to yell until my ears feel like they’re bleeding. You tell me I’m a bad person. You tell me that I’m just like my father, the one you hate. I can’t count the number of times I’ve prayed that someone would come steal me away in the middle of the night and torture me because even that’d be better than what I’ve felt. It’s been over sixteen years with you, and I just want to let you know that you can’t see it, but the damage has been done.

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To someone: I really loved you so much. Everyone else says they're in love, but they're really not. Because we redefined love. But whatever. It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? We have no proof, and we have no true memory. I don’t know if I even love you anymore and what kind of love it is if it’s there. ‘Cuz you know, you really did rip my heart out so I’m not quite sure what I feel anymore ever. But, just for the record, you were my everything, and you'll always be something special.

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To you: God f—ing damn, why on earth are you such a f—ing bitch? I hate you and your superiority complex; I hate the fact that it was you who raised me to be like this, and it was you who always did that shit to me and hurt me. Maybe you did it out of love or maybe it was out of pure spite, and you'll say that all you wanted to do was help but you know what? Here’s a news flash: THAT’S NOT THE WAY TO HELP. Maybe that’s how they did it when you were a kid, but it doesn’t work these days. All it does is make me feel even worse about myself and discourage me into thinking that you don’t care for what I do until I do it better. Well, I’m SORRY that I can’t be as smart as him, and I’m SORRY that I can’t be as skinny as her, and I’m SORRY that I can’t be as obedient as her and I’m SORRY that I can’t be the perfect child like him. That’s not me okay? SORRY if I’m the piece of shit you never wanted: the rebel, the hater, the dumb one, the lazy one, the one who is destined for no good. How could you compare me like that? You don’t respect any of my opinions at all even if you say you do. I know that even when you say that we can compromise, the only possible option you give me is yours even if you know I hate it. I’ve told you multiple times that it breaks me down a little bit more every time you compare me to younger and more perfect her, smarter and more hardworking him, kinder and more obedient her and most of all, more perfect, smarter, AND more obedient him. That last one really cuts me down because I love him probably more than I will ever love you.

I HATE the fact that you’ll tell me it’s OK to be average and then SCREAM and rage at me later when I try and restate that. You probably know what I’m talking about, but I really hate the feeling of heartbreak. It's a real pain in the center of your chest, and I have felt it multiple, multiple times in my life. It really hurts, you know that? It really makes me feel terrible when you put me down and push me away. Maybe I’m just an immature teenager that doesn’t understand how life works and maybe I need to "man up" and take life for what it is, but you should understand that EVERYONE goes through a phase like that. I seriously can’t believe that you think you know everything about me because if you really cared, you’d TAKE the time to listen to my troubles and be more supportive when I talk to you about my issues. YOU’RE the one who’s unreasonable most of the time and a f—ing psycho others, OK? If you had learned to communicate better — to understand, to listen — maybe this family wouldn’t be falling apart the way it is now. You’re REALLY hurting everyone, and it’s really not healthy. You and your ridiculous ideas of how some people are just inferior like that — well, you’re racist, and a bitch, and unfair, and prejudiced, and manipulative and don’t you DARE disparage MY friends in front of me. I HATE it when you insult them, tell me that they’re worthless, that I can do better, that I should manipulate them into doing what I want them to do, but I have no choice but to keep my mouth shut.
I chose them to be my friends for a reason, and that’s because they’re GOOD people. You can’t even make REAL friends since you’re such a bitch, and I’m sure they dislike you since you’re always putting them down and telling them what’s better to do. Even the people that both you and I know are wary of you since they all know that you’re fiery and hotheaded and will argue and wear them down in a fight even if you know that you’re wrong.

I hate that you feel like you can rule all of our lives, and the only reason that we listen to what you say and TRY not to argue is because we’re afraid you’ll blow up so don’t EVER think that we agree with you because we really think you’re right. Maybe someday I’ll understand what it’s like to be a mother but for right now, all I want is for someone to listen to me and to understand and to HELP which is something you never actually manage to do — all of your yelling and screaming is not helping. Everything that I’ve learned taught me that mothers are supposed to be nurturing, loving people that a child can spill all of his or her deepest secrets to and still be loved unconditionally. That is NOT who you are. For those people, I depend on him, and her and her since they won’t judge me for someone and provide even the SMALLEST measure of comfort.

I also hate the fact that you are always crushing my dreams, telling me that’s impossible, that’s dumb, how could you even think that you could do something like that? I had a dream — still do — that someday I’d drop out of college and take a couple friends, all who are like me, desperate to get away from the injustice of life and take a motorcycle tour of Europe for a couple of years. For years, I imagined the rise that I would get out of you, but I never voiced this dream because I knew you’d just fly into a rage or laugh at me and tell me that I’m being ridiculous again and direct me back to whatever boring task I was doing.
I hate that you’re cynical and skeptical and that you don’t believe in any measure of good in anyone, anywhere. You might think that there is no happiness in the world because of the way you were brought up and well, boo-hoo, I feel sorry for you, but I’m determined to make the best out of the world that I’m growing up in. Maybe you can’t accept the fact that I’m still a child, and I believe in goodness and being happy and staying true to myself, but that doesn’t mean that you have to try and stomp my dreams in the dust and tell me that I have to do things that I don’t like to — that I don’t want to — in order to be successful. I don’t think you know that the most commonly yelled phrase when I’m sleeping is I DONT WANT TO, do you? Well, I really think that tells a lot about how I’m living my life right now, and believe me, I won’t be like you when I grow up. I'll teach my kids that there ARE such things as dreams and hopes, and there IS goodness in people, and they aren’t all manipulative like you, you miserable COW. I hate that you force me to do things that I don’t want to, and I hate that I have no choice but to do it.

And I hate that when I tell you that you hurt me, you just sneer and tell me to stop sniveling, that when you were my age — all that shit — that you’re sick and tired of being a slave to the household and your life is being ruined and we're holding you back. And I HATE it when you demand, you forbid, you order me to do something, when you tell me I MUST do it.
And I hate that just because you don’t care what others think of you, you think I don't care either. I DO, OK?

And I hate it that you give me ultimatums to live under your roof and follow all your rules or to get OUT. I hate it when you attack him, and you’re mean to him because he’s a person, a human being and he has feelings too, you know? Did you know that he shakes like he’s having a freaking SEIZURE every time you use that vicious, poisonous tone with him and tell him to do something or yell at him not to do something?
Do you even CARE that he has a heart condition, and he's much more liable to be hurt, both physically and emotionally? No, you just go ahead, blinded by fury and your own hate, psycho bitch. I hate that you take every possible opportunity to disparage him and his family and insult him for being stupid, or dumb, or retarded or whatever nonsense you come up with next. You aren’t even subtle about it, you shout it in plain sight, and we are ALL upset. I'm sad, so sad that YOU are the one tearing this family apart for all your talk of being loving toward one another.

For every single time that
I've thought I loved you, there are five times when I've known I hate you. You may provide everything I need physically, but your emotional nurturing scores a zero.

P.S. He's not your cat, he's OURS.

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You're not a hard-ass, so stop pretending.

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I miss you to be honest, and I really don't why. Maybe it was because I actually believed you when you said that our friendship would last forever. You always warned me that being involved would ruin our friendship and now, I feel like I let you down because it's true. I've gotten over you. I really have, but now I feel like I've lost you as a friend. I miss just talking to you and the closeness we've had. You thought of me as your ideal and compared other guys to me. The message you sent me was possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me. You were all I ever wanted and since it ended so abruptly and so awkwardly, it just lingered on. I know we don't have a future together even though you said you were willing to wait for me to get back to MD. I couldn't do that to you. Damn, I have so many regrets: I regret not kissing you at prom when the time was right. Do you remember that? We were slow dancing, and there was a moment that felt so right ... f—, I even remember the song. It was that Secondhand Serenade song; I still can't listen to it. I hate that I didn't kiss you all those times that you really deserved it; I hate that I keep thinking about it. It's just in the back of my head; I just keep wondering "is she thinking about me?" even though I know the answer is no, when I wonder what you're up to at those random moments or right before I go to sleep — I know that I'm far from your thoughts. I kinda ruined my own image now that I think about it. If we never went out, if I never pressed you to see me, I may still have been that guy. But like you said when you broke up with me in that text: "I thought we should date ... but I was wrong." Haha sometimes I even think about all the CD's I made you and all the songs I put on them ... I wonder if you listen to them at all. I remember when you texted me my first week in college about how you were listening to "Lucky" on the radio, another song I can't bear to listen to. Oh, that killed me — that song defined you: how happy I was when you told me how you felt and when we made that decision to "casually date.” I now know that we can't dwell on the past and that you're gone. I think the one thing we told each other through our friendship is that "if someone really matters, you'll see them again in the future." I can't be the guy who keeps coming back to you. I've always been there for you, and I always will. I kept thinking that we've gone through so much, but that really can't be the case since seeing you was such a rarity. That was the only thing I hated; you were so distant. I remember during the banquet and prom planning, we talked every night. I woke up in the morning with a smile that rivaled Julia Roberts’s and was actually happy: my animal friends came and helped clean my room, I whistled and sang — it was f—ing pathetic. Most guys our age are dying for a blow job, and the only thing I wanted from you was a text message. Then I remember our first argument when you said ‘I'm sorry I don't spend every second near my phone.‘ — that really made me feel special. Happiest moment of our relationship. We break up; I don't talk to you. Despite what my friends say, I invite you to my party. You tell me how much you miss me, and we hook up. I remember that goodbye kiss and your lie that you were gonna come by later that week to drop off the t-shirt you got me. After all that, you went to ignoring me? I just don't get it since it takes two to tango. You felt that I wasn't over you and stressed how bad it wasn't going to work. Sometimes I wish I could pretend you were like just another conquest or something. That wasn't the case. I saw you the next day, and in your eyes, I didn't even exist. You built me up to knock me down. After all this shit, even after my friends warnings, I just want you to know I'll still be there for you. Oh, and I want that f—ing shirt you got me..."

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To that girl: I don’t know you that well, and I try not to judge. But I do.

You take people for granted. You drove a guy crazy and yet you ignored him. That’s unacceptable. There is no excuse for ignoring the person who’s supposed to be your “boyfriend.”

Your greatest problem is you don’t know or are comfortable with who you are. Instead of dealing with it, however, like
everyone else, you put on a mask. You try to be what other people want you to be, and you lose. This time, it was the boy who genuinely cared about you. He changed himself for you and for the better. He loved you for all your flaws. He sacrificed. He fell for you, for the nice girl you are deep down. He didn’t care about physicality. He cared about you and making you happy. People aren’t that selfless anymore.

Yet you tossed that out without even looking at it. You led him on and then set him aside as if he was disposable. But he wasn’t and now he’s lost faith in all girls because of you: a fate he didn’t deserve and never will.

All I have to say to you is it’s fine if you’re having a difficult time fitting in. That’s acceptable. But it will never be acceptable for you to play with people’s feelings. Don’t make my friends your collateral damage. The person you are right now? It’s not worth it and until it is,
I think I have every right to mark you off as a bad person.

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I love you. From the first (and only) day I saw you, I loved you. I am ecstatic every time you say hello and am overjoyed knowing that I've had the pleasure of knowing you. I no longer care that it will never work; I am even happy with the knowledge. I am just as excited for your marriage as you are. So long as we have our nightly fixes and conversations and you're there and I'm there even if neither of us can see each other, it won't matter. I'll keep loving you, and I hope you'll do the same.

Thank you for talking about anything and everything with me. I can't wait to see you, and
I wish you both all the happiness in the world. Keep on smiling ... I am =).

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I can’t stand people who only breathe through their mouths. Maybe it’s insensitive or mean, but I’m an imperfect person, too. Everyone has a nose so just use it. I understand sometimes people have physical issues so they have to only breathe through their mouths (deviated septum, I think), but a lot of people are just ignorant and obnoxious about it. I think I might hate it so much just because I had a bad experience as a kid: one of my classmates breathed through his mouth constantly. He drooled, he sniffled, he wheezed and made disgusting noises every second of every day. And he sat right behind me … of course. I can’t stand it when someone sits or stands right next to you, and it feels like they’re breathing right into your ear … it’s gross. Number 1: you should give people their personal space; number two: use your f—ing nose. Again, I’m sorry if that sounds insensitive, but it’s one of those things I’ve never been able to cope with — it’s disgusting.

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I found out about you when I was seven. I wish I could have seen you as do the rest of us. Please guide us in times of darkness and stress. We will see you on the other side soon enough, and I miss you terribly. To the brother I wish I could have met and shared life with: Patrick Steven Lacy.

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Bacon is better than turkey bacon.

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To the cheater:
We weren't together when you “cheated.” You were just another girl I could f— when I was bored. Lust must be as blind as love; looking back, I don't even know why I'd be involved with anyone like you. Our pathetic excuse for a “relationship” can be summarized with fighting, pregnancy scares and infidelity. Maybe if you weren't so immature I wouldn't have been so embarrassed to date you. Also, let's face it: your depression doesn't stem from your overbearing father or the fact that you have to run the house and take care of your siblings. I stayed up all night reading and talking to you trying to figure out what would help your case. It was such a waste of time because I finally realized that you are depressed because you're an attention-seeking idiot. Moving on to the pregnancy scares and how you took all the fun out of sex: I see myself as a responsible young man, and I am willing to man up and admit my mistakes ... but what I won't do is take care of an imaginary baby who could be someone else's. It's funny now that I'm over it. I wonder what he'd do if you told him what you told me about the night you slept with him. It went something along the lines of “He was so small; I couldn't feel a thing.” You obviously didn't tell him ‘cause you f—ed him a couple more times. I liked your excuse though — you told me that you slept with him because you wanted to make me mad and then later added on your suspicion that I was sleeping with other girls behind your back. You're a f—ing genius. If he knocks you up, I really hope the poor kid isn't retarded from the drugs his father has done. Oh, and I'm glad we can still talk and hang out. Deep down inside, I giggle when he kisses you and think to myself, “Ha, my dick was where his tongue is.”

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I wonder what you honestly think of yourself. I wonder what you see when you look in the mirror. Because I know when I picture your face, I see the only person who ever proved himself to be heartless — to me anyway. I'm not sure why I'm the one you chose to manipulate, the one who you chose to build you up when you were feeling down. But the thing is, I wanted to build you up. I thought you were the greatest guy I'd ever met so I thought, why not let him know that? Well I wish I hadn't. I wish I hadn't let myself believe every word you said to me, even though I could tell you were moving faster than most would. Well, giving yourself expectations is a bitch, and I think I'm smarter now because of how you hurt me. I'm over it now, but what hurts is the fact that I don't think you ever cared that I was. You didn't apologize for lying to yourself and to me a lot. And you never tried to explain or say that you regretted being a dick. And I can't forgive you for that. You gave me so much hope, more than I'd ever had, more than I'd ever even hoped for ... and you took it away with a f—ing text message. Wow. I don't understand you, and I certainly can't respect you for a single thing you've done. If I ever see your face again, I think I might have a very strong urge to puke. Regardless, thanks for making me smarter and stronger. I hope you have a nice life, and I hope she cheats on you. Again.

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Where is the love?

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To her:
You're gorgeous, and you know it. I think I love everything about you from your ditzy blonde moments to your cold emotionlessness (yeah, I actually think it's kind of sexy). Shit, it's almost scary since you make me doubt my sexuality, you like beer and football and can be one of the guys but even it out with your love for weird shoes and amazingly good kissing ability. I was shocked to find out you were a lesbian.
Seriously, your boyfriend is a woman. When you get sick of the v-necks and his emotional breakdowns, you can tell him to gently remove his tampon and call me. And yeah, if we do get it on, we'd definitely high five at the end. You're my best friend, and I hate to get mushy but you'll have me forever and for always.

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I hate you because I love you.

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I'm sorry, but did we ask you to post your life stories and ambitions on your Facebook status? No, I didn't think so. I'm so glad I found out that you can block people from your news feed because honestly, I do not want to know how much you enjoy to party, how overworked you feel, what you are doing at this exact moment in time or what you just ate for breakfast and how it is making you puke. Save that for your friends unless, like most of us assume, you really don't have any that give a damn. I can understand if you would like to tell us where you will be for the weekend, something exciting that happened or about something funny — even simple smiley faces are tolerable, but if you feel a sudden urge to express your most profound emotions, doing it over Facebook isn't exactly the most noble medium to convey them. Because really, in the end, who gives a damn? I certainly don't.

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I’ve decided I’m not going to acknowledge that “we” ever happened. I was a lot more immature back then, and I know it. You really did hurt me though. It may not have been love, but you’re the first person in my life that actually made my heart … well, not break but at least bleed a little and for a while. Looking back on it, I can’t imagine what I ever saw in you besides your looks. You never seemed to care much about me even though you said you did. But let me comment on the WAY you broke it off. “It came and went…” “Not so much, anymore…” — everything you said came out as cold and heartless to me. I don’t know if that’s how you meant it but that’s how it felt. You told me you had feelings for me and then took it back? Please. And then a week later you asked me if I still had feelings for you ... why? Why in the world would you do that? That made me feel like maybe you’d changed your mind; it gave me a tiny bit of hope … but all you wanted to know was whether I was over you or not? Nice. Really nice job making me feel like nothing but YOUR ego-boost. Because you were “just wondering.” Well, f—you. We lasted such a short amount of time but to be honest, time didn’t matter because I felt THAT strongly about you … I was an idiot, though, and I know that now. I should’ve never gotten attached to you because to a certain extent I always knew I could never be happy with you since you could never be happy with me. And what I’ve always wanted to say to you is that you ruined every chance we had at being friends. You stopped talking to me altogether. Not only did you hurt me more than I’d ever been hurt before, you practically erased me from your memory or so it always seemed to me. I tried to talk to you, and you’d give me one-word answers like you didn’t even know me, like nothing had ever happened between us. And on top of that, every time I’ve seen you since then you make a spectacle out of the fact that it was awkward. Yeah, asshole, I know it’s awkward. You don’t have to come out and say it every time and make the situation even more uncomfortable. You make me sick.

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I tried to accept you into my family, but I can't ... and you know why. I’ve cried so much because of you and can't believe that anyone could ever love you. You're the most annoying, stubborn, angry, mean bastard I’ve ever met. I mean, yeah, there are worse people out there but to me, you pretty much murdered my childhood and happiness. Sometimes I wish I could cuss you out, punch you in the face, walk out of the house and never come back. I used to be scared to be in the same house as you and over time that started to go away but seriously, I haven’t recovered. I'm different because of you, and I hate you for that. I wish I never met you. F— you.

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To my horrible childhood:
I have settled on the fact that no matter what I do, you will never be proud of me. My youth was turbulent and yeah, you could have been separated or had drinking problems or something, and it could have been worse.
I always was pressured, and I knew you couldn't stand me. It was only after I left did I realize that you did really love me. I missed you all for the first time and for the first time ever, I felt like you did care. I don't care that it took me this long to feel that way; all I care about is that you actually accepted me for once. I'm just upset that it happened when I am so far away from you all. I was a horrible kid, and you did a considerable amount of damage but hell, I guess that's what all parents are for. I remember when I couldn't be in the same room as dad and how I made mom cry. I remember how I ignored my grandmother and stood up to my grandfather just to see if he'd have a conniption. I've been nothing but a bad investment for you — you even told me that yourselves — but you still call every day to find out if I've eaten breakfast or gotten enough sleep. I'm so sorry for everything I've put you through. I love you all so much.

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You're nice in a really patronizing, bitchy sort of way that makes me want to stomp on your toes. It's annoying when you're fighting with your boyfriend on the phone while I'm in the room but even more annoying when you're cooing to him in what you think is your "cute" voice. It's also annoying when you come home from his house early in the morning and slam the door, your drawers and everything else that's on hinges. Oh, and whenever you close the closet, you always catch my Ann Taylor sweater in the door, and it's beginning to unravel. So thanks for being considerate. You always complain to my friends that you think I hate you ... well, I do. We're roommates but that doesn't mean we have to be friends.

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To my dysfunctional friend on the second floor:
I know I embody everything you hate. I tell you that I am reformed but you know, I still like to drink, smoke and philander with the easy girls. You hate generalizing, but you do it all the time. I guess that makes you a hypocrite.

It's sad but true, I love to knock on your door and have a hallway conversation about your ridiculously dysfunctional relationship with your boyfriend and how crazy you just might be, but
you're more than damaged goods to me: you're a friend, and I'm happy to know that you miss me.

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To a person: I don’t know what it is about you, but for some reason I’ve always liked you. Ever since the first moment I saw you from across the room, I knew there was a part of you and a part of me that wanted to find each other. I think that at this point I very well may love you. I wish you'd see that because if you don’t, I just might have to tell you myself.

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Look, I don't like you. Having sex with you was one of the worst mistakes ever because now you won't get off my nuts. I used to think you were a sweet guy, but now you're being creepy. You're also too short, and you laugh too loudly, and it makes you seem manic. You take up too much space in the bed, and I hate when you fall asleep with your balls out. I think you lied about how many partners you've had because you act like a total virgin. You only do it missionary ... what am I, stupid? You act like we've been dating for a year and a half instead of being casual f—buddies for the past three weeks. Exactly how many times do I have to tell you that I'm not interested? I feel bad having to play the bitch, but you don't seem to get the message either way. Take a hint!

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To the coworker:
I understand the job we do comes with a lot of hazing, but I feel as though I have to remind you that we signed up a month apart. We took the same introductory training class, and on paper, we're the same. I really don't know what I did to piss you off so much. Maybe you're just prejudice, or maybe your father just beats the shit out of you in a drunken stupor (I'm hoping it’s the latter).
At first I was pissed off at you for constantly harassing me and going out of your way to pretend to be one of the guys just to be accepted, and then I realized that I shouldn't be upset at all, and now I pity you. I'm sorry you didn't get the opportunities that I did to have a bright future — I mean it has to be hard to do that when you're raised in a white trash trailer by a bow-legged mother whose only qualification for raising a child and motherhood is a wide set pussy that just happened to catch the sperm of a passing trucker. While I was angry, I told you that I would knock your ass out in front of the whole station. You know this can't be true, you're a whole year older and look like the fat-ass version of Colin Farrell — no way I could possibly take you. I did apologize; I'm sorry you couldn't be a man and accept it. There are other ways of being accepted; you could just be a nice guy and not a dip-chewing jackass. My advice to you is to gently slide off the cocks of your superior officers and stop listening to country music.

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I'm sorry I’m a disappointment to you. I try my best and try to make you happy, but you’re never happy. Sometimes I just need a little support and comforting, but you give me none. Is it so hard to say ‘I love you’? You don’t understand me at all, and it’s hard to talk to you ... but of course I still love you, Mom.

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To the boys I let down:
I never meant to abandon you. I just need a break from you since I couldn't constantly be there at your side for every second of every day. You were clingy and dealing with depression. You were ignorant and an asshole with nothing positive to say. You were my friend nevertheless, and what I did was wrong.
I never should have left you in your time of need when you hated everyone around you, and your world was falling apart. I regret it, I really do. You deserve better, and I promise to make it up to you both. There won't be another falling out, I swear. I just never realized how much our friendship meant to you both. I never felt as though anyone needed me or even wanted me as a friend. I just thought it kind of just all ... happened. I promise that we will all reconnect and that this was just a speed bump in our friendship.

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For the six years that I've known you, I have known that I love you.

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To the ogre that lives on the first floor:
We get it you have no friends and are socially awkward. It just pisses me off to know that none of us has the balls to tell you to f— off when you follow us like that retarded dinosaur dog from The Flintstones. Some of the shit you say baffles me and as impressive as it is, no one really gives a shit if you can drink a whole pitcher of beer by yourself at the bar. It gets even weirder when you attempt to hit on our friends and buy us all a pitcher just to be accepted. Who forged your transcripts to get in the f—in’ honors program?
Maybe if you got off Facebook for once and had a conversation with a real person face-to-face, people would actually invite you somewhere, and you won't have to stalk them like a Neanderthal cave person.

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To my ex:
You are a friggin’ IDIOT! How could you go and marry that chick? She isn’t even PRETTY! She will NEVER love you ... not because I can love you better but because she is friggin’ PSYCHO!!! But OK, do you? Don’t call me in a year when she tried to kill you, but you can’t divorce her because in order for her to be stay a citizen you have to stay married to her for three years! HAHAHAHAHA! Dumb ass. I hate you with a passion. To the point that ... you remember all those rings I had on that chain? The one you bought me and all those rings of yours? Yeah, I wanna shove them sh*its down your throat.
Have a nice life with your psycho wife! :)
All my hate,
Chell

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My god, you frustrate me so much.

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SEND YOUR RANTS ALONG: wordsineversaid@gmail.com.