person: hey wanna hang out
thoughts: omfg how do i get myself out of this

You’re getting too spoiled. You’re starting to cry about little things that no normal person would normally care about. The same issues over and over, on replay. You need to vent to me, but I can already guess the main issue. If it was something deep, that you could admit to, if it was something that ran deeper than what you were crying about, I wouldn’t mind.

You don’t get it though, no matter how close we are, I don’t like people that try to spawn their confidence based off of how I act. I don’t like people that start copying my every move. I may call you my “sister”, but I’m seeing such a different side to you lately. I didn’t know you were this insecure, I didn’t know you were this stubborn, this thick-headed, I didn’t know you were so much like the rest of the family. Hypocritical, constantly nit-picking, whining, getting on your high horse thinking you can’t be knocked off even though in reality, you’re on the floor already. I didn’t know that even if one plus one equals two, you still have to disagree. I didn’t know the negativity you shined, I didn’t know that once you became close to some one, it was you or nothing. I didn’t know that once you became close to some one, it was them and that’s all that could be.

Do you even see the real picture that you say you do? I love how often you express to me that “you know me better than me”. You don’t realize it though, that anytime you try to explain my feelings and I tell you otherwise, you push that idea on to me until I shut up. I don’t shut up because I surrender to the thought, I shut up because it’s something that will turn into an argument. You try anything you can to use “me and you” in a sentence, you try anything you can to push the fact that you and I are alike. I don’t know why though.

I don’t cry about little things like having to see a movie with my boyfriend. I don’t spend four years out of high school doing nothing but living off of his income. I also don’t take the shit that you do from him and his mother. I don’t try to convince some one that some thing is better than the other, especially when I have nothing to say besides, “you don’t know what you’re talking about”. It’s not because I want to go into law that I say you need facts to back up your case. It’s because unless you have evidence to back something up, it becomes a theory, an opinion. It doesn’t become a fact.

I don’t sit there three times a day straightening my perfectly straight hair over and over. I don’t complain about how fat I am constantly, I don’t complain about my supporter not giving me money after I overspent on make up that I didn’t even need. I don’t spit at every one’s every move. I’m not as weak as you are. I don’t look into what any one could see in plain sight to twist it and manipulate it to fit your insecure thoughts.

I can tell you a fact, and show you the proof. You still have to turn around and ask some one else as if they’re a prodigy. You make me out to be some one so stupid, who has no intelligence what-so-ever. I’m not the one who had an average less than 2.0. You talk about what a good path you’re going on in life, how you’re doing so well, how you’ve become so mature. You’re doing nothing but painting daisies and glitter to brighten up your perspective. If some one initially tries to help you further your goals, or help you a little, you say it’s rude. That it offended you.

You question why your actual sisters are the way they are when it comes to guys and friends, apparently, you don’t see it in you. You think “me and you are such reasonable people, with such common sense.”. You don’t see what a disgusting person you’ve become. Normally, I would never be such a bitch to you. I would never have anything good to say, but I’m seeing so much of what you’re becoming. So much of what you’ve become, and you’re another one of those girls who’s trying to fulfill her teenage years in her twenties. Frankly, I can’t do it anymore. Frankly, I grew up a long time ago.

To be honest, I hope you get the six months away. I hope you move to a different state than me. You think I’m going to drop everything and go with you, as if I had nothing to live for but you. I’m not doing it, not for the rest of my life. I can only stick around for so long because we’re family.

I can already feel the awkwardness when we first hang out though, and I can’t do it anymore. I honestly want to stay away from you.

Anonymous said: if yu had to write a letter yr ex's what would they sayy?

Like each of them? Hahah, oh gosh. Here goes nothing:

Dear Ryan,

Out of all three guys I’ve ever dated in my fucking life, you had to have been THE biggest fucking joke. I’m not hurt by anything you did, I’m hurt by how stupid I was for even giving you a chance. You’re only 5’4 at the age of 20, you’re as skinny as a 12 year old girl, you wouldn’t have had nice hair if it wasn’t for me being the one to style it. You didn’t have a license, a job, not even a permit, and you lived with your sister, then freeloaded off of me for a while. You’d get mad at me when I refused to send you vulgar pictures, so mad to the point where you almost broke up with me. You cried at the thought of me not buying you your beloved Pokemon games and cards. You tried to get it in even though my appendix had literally bursted and I still hadn’t gone to the hospital. You took my money and spent it on things you wanted and expected me to forgive you. You let me get threats from your sister who is literally three times bigger than me without ever standing up for me. You barely stood up for yourself, how you consider yourself a man, I’ll never know. You had the nerve to cheat on me, not once, but twice. Crying, you said you were just into “porn” and needed some pictures to get you by. You know that means you spoke to them a certain way, you know it was on my birthday, right? I find it worse that they weren’t even anything good to look at. You spoke to your ex, hiding it from me, so many times. You told her happy birthday and completely disregarded mine while Haven, my fucking ex was the one calling me, singing. I couldn’t talk to a single guy without you freaking out on me. You told me you were embarrassed to walk around with me because “I look like a hooker”. You wouldn’t hold my hand in public, or show any display of affection. You told me how hot girls were and what you would love to do with them, some of them what you did do. You talked shit about my family, constantly, when you had no right. Like a baby who couldn’t speak for himself, feed himself, walk by himself, you had to live at my Dad’s because no one in your family would take you in. Do you know how much shit my poor dad got because of your ass? Some one who wasn’t even worth it. Some one who still has my DVD’s, my games, and a few of my clothes. Some one who kept every card I bought him, every game I bought him, and took some of mine. Some one who violated me, some one who manipulated me. You knew the state I was in, you knew how bad it was at home, and you dared to take advantage of that. You dared to even lay your hands on me and call me yours. I was too good for you, every one said it. Now you’re going around telling strangers that “we had sex”, and that “you were my first”. As if it was a fucking choice. You tell people that I was such a bitch, that you were so glad you broke up with me, that I cheated on you, that I did you wrong. I got rid of you, I told you to pack your bags, I told you to get out. I was a bitch? Did you give me any reason to be nice? 20 years old and you JUST NOW got a job at McDonald’s? HAH. I can’t wait to see you in jail for the next 13 year old you get your filthy hands on. To say you define scum is an understatement. You make me disappointed in myself. I hope you slit your wrists again and overdose. Do it, please.

Dear Haven,

Two years. Two years of being on and off, and off and on. The cat will always chase the mouse, the mouse will forever run after the cat. It describes us perfectly, it always has. When ever some one calls me Shelly, I think of you. I remember when you sang to me, I remember how afraid you were to even call me. Now our talks last hours, hardly any silence. I can hear the excitement in your voice when I say “I love you”, I don’t know if I’m in love with you to be honest. I do know though, that I love you with my all. It’s ridiculous how often we come across each other, it’s ridiculous how off and on we are. I hate it though, how often you disappear. I hate it how you ask me “why did we ever break up?”. I hate the fact that I can’t sit you down and express every feeling you give me, and how happy I am to have you in my life. When ever I’m low, you know some how. You’re my firefighter, my sunshine, and some times, my worst enemy. It’s okay though, I’ll take the good and the bad that comes with you. I’ll take you as you are, because I know you better than any one else, as you know me. I love you, don’t ever forget.

Dear Aaron,

Lmfao. Every one says they love you, every one says you’re amazing, blah blah blah. I’m not hurt by anything you did, to be frank, you’re kind of a joke. You weren’t really up to par either. You were just a pretty face, but let’s face it: You said it yourself, your hair has more game than you do. You can’t go a day with out being high or intoxicated, I really do hope you grow up, for your sake. You claimed that I was going to be the one supporting you, that you couldn’t. If that’s the case, then find yourself a sugar mama. Breaking up with you was such a good move, dude. You live and you learn though. Deuces.