I love it when people show their true colors. Especially when it opens my eyes and shows that I've been falling for a lie.

I also love it when people turn into fucking cowards and run away. How pathetic, can't even man up and hold a conversation? Instead you gotta run away and hide under your silly little covers like that's going to make it all go away? Lemme tell you something, little kid: It don't fucking work that way with me.

I fucking hate the Ostrich Theory. "Oh, if I stick my head up my ass and ignore the whole situation, then it'll go away." Uh, no. It doesn't fucking work that way. You wanna stick your head in the sand and ignore me because what I have to say isn't what you want to hear at the time, yet you expect me to give you all the attention in the world when something's bothering you? Let me break this to you, too, because apparently you're wearing some seriously rose-tinted glasses: The. World. Does. NOT. Revolve. Around. You.

And if you're expecting me to cater to a selfish little child, think the fuck again. I'm looking for an equal partnership, I'm not looking to babysit an immature, selfish, tempermental child. If I wanted to babysit a child, I'd go work at a fucking daycare. You know, where little children are supposed to be. You think you're grown up -- Grown ups don't fucking run away from a discussion. Grown ups don't put their fingers in their ears and scream "Lalalala!" until the other person gets tired of it and gives up trying. Grown ups actually have an actual interest in the lives of their partners... that, or they admit to that person that things are done and they don't give a shit. Which one are you? If you don't give a shit anymore then fucking tell me to my face so I'll back the fuck off and stop wasting my breath revealing my hopes and dreams to a goddamn brick wall. Okay? Thanks.

You know what I have a knack for? Finding selfish workaholics who could honestly care less what I have to say or how I feel at any given time. People who simply want me around when it's convenient for them and wouldn't care less if I fell off the fucking planet the rest of the time. In fact, they'd probably like it if I fell off the face of the earth because then they wouldn't have to sacrifice any of their precious time on me. And what's so fucking hilarious to me is that when I finally get tired of their shit and actually start to grow a spine and decide I want to find something better, they whine and cry and pitch their little baby fits of "Please don't go, I love you!"

...Love? This is how you show love? Wow, I'd hate to see how you show your hatred.

You know what I also have? Staircase Syndrome. I admit it. I let people take advantage of me, emotionally rape the shit out of me on a daily basis, beat me down mentally/emotionally, and otherwise manipulate me into staying trapped in a situation that's ultimate going to destroy my self-esteem, self-respect, and self-confidence. I try so fucking hard to make everyone happy that I'm essentially going to commit emotional suicide. I've already committed mental suicide, having to force myself to "dumb down" for the benefit of people who can't understand my supposedly "advanced" vocabulary and logic... Apparently killing myself emotionally isn't going to be any big loss to anyone, either. I should've guessed that my emotions never meant shit to anyone. I was such an idiot for ever falling for that lie. Nobody's going to care about me except for myself and my family.
But whatever.

What sucks about me is how badly I've let all of this get to me. I relapsed back into getting stoned "recreationally" because it's the only thing that makes me forget about this horrible misery I put up with. I get so angry and/or depressed at the end of each evening, after another stupid round of fighting, that I resort to blasting my brains out with medications so I don't have to feel like shit all night. So I won't cry again. So I won't get tempted to hang myself by the throat with a fucking headset cord. So I won't punch the walls until my knuckles bleed. So I won't scream and sob into a pillow until I suffocate into unconsciousness. I don't go around getting blasted because it's fun... I go around getting blasted because it numbs the heartache and pain I suffer on a daily fucking basis.

Heartache and pain that comes from catering to the whims of someone who probably wouldn't know how to react if he was ever treated the way he treats me. Then again, he'd probably just fucking run away if I ever tried. But what can you do... there isn't any point trying to help a coward who refuses to see that he's wrong.

You know how I see it? You want to go around doing dangerous shit and not care that I don't like it -- fine. I'm going to go around doing dangerous shit and not care that you don't like it as well. Fair is fair... get over it.

And if you can't get over it... you know where the door is. I'm not going to change my ways because it's more than obvious that you aren't going to change yours. Relationships are fucking compromise -- give and take -- and you're NOT willing to play. So I officially refuse to play, too.

All I wanted was for you to actually show an interest in my life. Even if you fucking faked it for my benefit. But nope. You couldn't be assed. It was apparently far too much work for you to bother doing. So instead you shoved another dagger in my heart and twisted it around. I hope that you enjoy twisting those daggers around, I really do. But don't think that you're going to get to get away with it forever... because, whether you've bothered to notice it or not, I'm rapidly getting tired of trying to get through to you. Apparently you don't want anyone to get through to you, and I oughta just give up.

Don't ever expect me to tell you about my dreams ever again. Don't ever expect me to ask for your opinion on any decisions I've been mulling over -- in fact, don't ever expect me to go so far as to even fucking mentioning them ever again. Don't ever expect me to tell you about my day anymore. I'm not going to waste my energy and your precious and valuable time on something so worthless and boring to you. So do yourself a happy little victory dance...

You won! Congratulations! Go out and celebrate with all your friends -- apparently you have more fun with them than you do me, anyway! You even said that yourself, to my face!

(So don't even dare try to deny that you did.)

Go out and spend your time with the people you actually give a shit about, because you sure as hell don't give a shit about me. Actually, no, I take that back -- you give half a shit about me when it's convenient for you. When you're bored and apparently your real friends aren't around... only then am I worth something to you. And even then you can't even part from your precious other hobbies long enough to talk to me.

I really have to ask: Why do you bother keeping me around? You obviously have much better things to do with your life. You obviously don't need me -- and barely seem to want me -- so why bother?

The funny thing is... if I were to disappear tomorrow, it wouldn't affect you. You'd still go out with your friends and have a kickass time doing whatever the fuck it is you and your more-important friends do. You wouldn't even bother wasting the time thinking about me. You like to tell me that it would bother you immensely and tragically depress you... but it wouldn't be immense or tragic enough to ever tear you away from your social affairs. Yeah, that's definitely proving how much I mean to you. But you know what? That's okay. That's absolutely okay. Who am I to tear someone away from their real love? I know I'm just a fake love... it's taken a lot of time to come to grips with that fact, but I finally have. I'm just a fake love. Probably a temporary one, too. But hey... I don't have to be worth anything to anybody. I'm fine being a complete waste of space... I spent my entire teenage life as one... why should I ever think it would change now that I'm 21?

Anyway, enjoy your victory celebration. You finally managed to make me realize I need to shut up about my life -- my hopes, dreams, aspirations, desires, etc. You finally got the bitch to shut her mouth.

Congratulations -- You broke the spirit that I thought was unbreakable. Way to go... you definitely should be patting yourself on the back right now. You managed to do the impossible.

Congratulations on a job well done.