Everybody else is doing it, so why can’t I?

Dude the truth is I don’t give a fuck about you now; not really. I value my friendships with your friends more than I do yours. I don’t really care about your life or how perfect it’s turning out to be. I don’t mean to sound  bitter or cruel; I suppose I do sound that way. But that’s the farthest thing from my mind right now; I know what bitterness about you tastes like after that long con in which you dumped me by getting me to dump you (by the way, I had a guy very astutely explain to me last week the mechanics of performing such a con; seriously I could feel the fog lift from my eyes). This isn’t bitterness. This is embarrassment.

I don’t really feel compelled to have anything to do with you, to meet your wife (who has never heard of me - I guess you’re embarrassed, too), to hang out there. I don’t feel any affinity for you; the truth is we only became friends because we wanted to fuck each other. Or, you wanted to fuck me, and he and I needed to get rid of each other.

I hold no affection for you, no warm and fuzzy memories. We are not friends; whatever we went through, we did not go through together. In fact I hold him in better regard than you even though he was hostile and terrible to me in the end. Because I guess I still hold out some hope that he had become that person not of his own volition. Whereas you, you were always kind of a prick to me.

This entry was posted on Monday, October 6th, 2008 at 12.39.am and is filed under Not that you're Interested in my Life, Pissed Off. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.