#beccathinks

No, okay. Just no. You did this. Now let me explain. If you would have messaged me some "I miss you!" bullshit a month ago my ass would have been like, "oh, I miss you, too!" But not anymore and this is why. Because I can't go over to your house without your girlfriend and you fighting, which, what the fuck. If she's that insecure that she's gonna pick a fight with you and give me the stink eye when I show up, then why the fuck would either of us want to be subjected to that? Also, I got a text from a mutual friend who said that YOU were asking about me. It had been MONTHS since you had even contacted me, but you "missed" me so you had her contact me? One of us is doing this friendship wrong if that's how it works. Anyway, so yeah, I go to your house to hang out. No problem. I pull up and you and your gf are the only ones outside. I get out of my car and jokingly say, "I heard my presence was requested?" You replied, "uh nope." In which I thought you were joking back. I WAS WRONG. In the three hours I spent there you spent maybe a total of 45 minutes talking to me, give or take. I ask our mutual friend if you really did ask about me because I was having my doubts and she said, "yeah! of course, his gf wasn't out here when he did" and at that point I was done. Finished. I got up and left. I have done nothing in these past three years but sacrifice for you. I have been the best friend you could even wish for and I lost people over you. Thanlfully, those people forgave me and now the very best friend I've ever had is back on my life. But I left thst night because it finally hot me thst I deserved better. I have way more value then to be strung along by this "friendship". And then tonight, commenting on my status like you did? "Duh you stupid bitch!", "FUCK BECCA", what kind of friend does that? I know you were kidding, but I'm not just someone who you can talk to like that. Not anymore. I'm not that girl that's going to take what you throw at me anymore because I've FINALLY realized that I am so much better than that. And then when I messaged you and said something about it your response was, "I miss you!" Sorry, bud, but I'm not falling for that line anymore. You can miss me all you want, please miss me, I don't care. Maybe you'll realize that I'm not gonna take that anymore. Besides, you only miss me if you're drinking.

She is angry. She is angry at the way her hair doesn't curl right. She is angry at the way it looks just wild enough, until it looks too wild. She is angry that her chin might be too pointy to be pretty. She is angry that her hair is too dark and isn't dark enough. She is angry at the way her name sounds staccato and sharp. She is angry at the way her body fills out the clothes a little too much. She is angry that her body doesn't work the way she wants it too and she isn't sure how to fix that. She is angry at the way her mind reels and she can't get it to stop, ever. She is angry at her father and for what he did. She's angry that he is sick and won't do anything to fix it. She is angry that he is so miserable. She's angry because her own father, her parent, can't even be trusted. She's angry because the man who raised her, didn't raise her well enough to know that she is enough. She's angry because she doesn't feel good enough or she is too good. She isn't enough or she is too much. She is angry because she doesn't know why boys treat her this way. She is angry at her mother for not understanding any of this. She's angry at her mother because emotions can't exist. She's angry at her mother for not letting her feelings be validated. She's angry at her mother for her excuses. She's angry at her mother for raising her to believe that love can make you weak. That love can make you vulnerable and that is never okay. She's angry at her mother for teaching her that you can't depend on anybody but yourself, because everyone else will only hurt you and that isn't acceptable. She is angry at the boy who was her friend until she wasn't useful anymore. If she's honest, that's all the boys. She is angry at the boy who was so nice to her, but only because that's just who he was. She is angry at the boy who would stay up until 3am talking to her on the phone until he got caught by his mother. She is angry at the boy who was her best friend, until he lied, and fell into love with someone else, and asked for her heartbroken blessing. She is angry at the boy who she had many adventures with, who stopped talking to her and she doesn't even know why. She is angry at the boy she finally loved because he loved her too. She is angry at him because of the way he said her name. Because of the way he talked to her. Because he of the way he held her. Because of the way, if he was sober, he wouldn't let his feelings show. She is so angry at him, because she isn't even sure he really loved her. She is angry at the way a little piece of her leaves with everyone who leaves her. She is angry at the way she is angry. She is angry and she is fierce. She is frustrated and furious. She is so angry and she is so scared of it, so she hides it. She's tired of hiding it but she's scared to be angry, because what if that fire eats her. What if it burns everyone around her. What if she sets the world on fire and she can't fix it. What if her anger is poision. She has so many worries, so she tucks her anger away and she smiles her smile. But she is angry and she doesn't know how to fix that. She. Is. Angry.