Oh please fucking stop.
I am not your last hurrah.
I am not the girl you can drink shots with but won’t take home to meet your mother. I loathe the fact that some guys think I’m datable, fuckable, but not marryable.
You know what? FUCK YOU.
I’ve had enough of it. The fun girl. The party girl. The girl you don’t have to take seriously. And especially the condition of her heart? When she dares unlock it from her adamantium box? The girl who’s feelings you can treat as disposible because she’s strong and has opinions and can’t possiblly be hurt by your inconsideracies.
You know what.
Shit hurts.
And it hurts even girls like me. Girls who know that they have more balls than you do to do the right thing, to say what they think, and be fearless in expressing what they feel. Honestly and without reservation or omission.
Sins of omission are still sins, you know.
FUCK YOU.
I am tired of being the girl that guys want to be the other woman. Or feel that they can treat carelessly.
I want to be *THE WOMAN*.
And you know what? I know I *am* more woman than you can handle.
You pussy.
Men with girlfriends who still want to flirt with me, men with serious interests on the side, married men too, men who find me interesting enough to want to be with but not enough to step up and be real and honest to, with tremendous disclosure that speaks from the heart. Men who are afraid to be trully and earnestly *present* to the other person, passionate about their drives, and who are not afraid to have a girl with tremendous emotional and psychological/spriitual depth really swoon for them.
Men who fear challenges, fights, opinions, differences, and growth.
You know what?
FUCK YOU.
I’m tired of this bullshit. I’m going to be 28 at the end of the month and I don’t need your lame immature and selfish dicks who can take the emotions of another person and treat them so frivolously. I’m too smart for that and when I see someone holding back, I don’t need you to tell me that something else is going on.
I sense it. I know.
So be happy with your little life. Feel the shame of being less than really human to another person. A person that you think that platinum bullets couldn’t wound.
But it does. Are you proud of yourself? Why is it so hard to be a person of genuine character? Apparently too challenging for the masses.
Go back to your Maury Povich and leave me the fuck alone.
I don’t need the waste in my emotional bandwidth.