dear bro-ish
In case you were wondering, your 2 AM phone call really fucked up my night. After weeks of moping, I finally decided that it was time to give someone else a shot, and of course you call smack dab in the middle of all that. Sorry (not sorry) for not answering, I really didn't feel it right to fuck up my date's evening with whatever the fuck you were calling for... however badly it poisoned my fun for the rest of the night.
I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that your continued campaign of head trashing in the form of ignoring text messages is working like a dream. I understand that texting back that it was a butt dial, or a drunken moment, or fuck, even an attempt at a booty call requires so much effort.. but no, it fucking doesn't.
Considering the fact that I ended it, you may feel I have no right to be this upset over whatever the fuck our time together was supposed to be. But the fact is, I have never had someone fuck with my heart as nonchalantly and needlessly as you have, and I've dealt with some grade A douchebags. So, congrats. You've officially broken the heart fuck glass ceiling.
"I can't wait to see you."
"Am I moving too fast?"
"I like you so much."
"I miss you."
And so much more that I can't even type because listing them out just cements the fact that they were all lies.
I bought bow ear rings because you said you loved my earlobes and I thought it'd be cute to make them into a present for you. Fuck you, so very much, for that.
Realizing you finally actually wanted to be with someone and having that person turn out to be a total fake really makes you feel stupid. And, as I'm guessing you didn't learn this about me, there is nothing that trashes my self-esteem worse than feeling like I've played perfectly into someone's fucking game.
The great Bob Marley said "The biggest coward of a man is to awaken the love of a woman without the intention of loving her." He may have been a philanderous baby factory, but that fact shows that he knew what he was talking about... he loved a lot of ladies.
Some small piece of me needs you to understand the level at which this entire situation upset me. And as I know I will never actually get to tell you to your face, either because you're spineless or because you did not give a flying fuck about me whatsoever, I'm just going to have to hope that you someday happen across this drivel I call a blog.
Pissed and tired of being sad,
Ali
P.S. If you're only going to use my number to be a dick, please reevaluate your life and fucking lose it already.
I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that your continued campaign of head trashing in the form of ignoring text messages is working like a dream. I understand that texting back that it was a butt dial, or a drunken moment, or fuck, even an attempt at a booty call requires so much effort.. but no, it fucking doesn't.
Considering the fact that I ended it, you may feel I have no right to be this upset over whatever the fuck our time together was supposed to be. But the fact is, I have never had someone fuck with my heart as nonchalantly and needlessly as you have, and I've dealt with some grade A douchebags. So, congrats. You've officially broken the heart fuck glass ceiling.
"I can't wait to see you."
"Am I moving too fast?"
"I like you so much."
"I miss you."
And so much more that I can't even type because listing them out just cements the fact that they were all lies.
I bought bow ear rings because you said you loved my earlobes and I thought it'd be cute to make them into a present for you. Fuck you, so very much, for that.
Realizing you finally actually wanted to be with someone and having that person turn out to be a total fake really makes you feel stupid. And, as I'm guessing you didn't learn this about me, there is nothing that trashes my self-esteem worse than feeling like I've played perfectly into someone's fucking game.
The great Bob Marley said "The biggest coward of a man is to awaken the love of a woman without the intention of loving her." He may have been a philanderous baby factory, but that fact shows that he knew what he was talking about... he loved a lot of ladies.
Some small piece of me needs you to understand the level at which this entire situation upset me. And as I know I will never actually get to tell you to your face, either because you're spineless or because you did not give a flying fuck about me whatsoever, I'm just going to have to hope that you someday happen across this drivel I call a blog.
Pissed and tired of being sad,
Ali
P.S. If you're only going to use my number to be a dick, please reevaluate your life and fucking lose it already.
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