It’s Not YOU. It’s ME.

Let me take this opportunity to say Thank You.

Thank you for showing me that everyone else takes priority- even some random thirsty bitch you just met.

Thanks for making it crystal fucking clear that I’m here for your amusement, pleasure, and/or convenience.

Thank you for not recognizing that I spent time getting ready tonight. That I put in extra effort so you would see me as something more than that fat chick in a Chef’s coat.

Thank you for making me feel small and inconsequential. For making sure I would never mistake you for more than a professional acquaintance. God forbid I should consider you a ‘friend’. I’m not on your level. I’m a FanGirl in your world and One simply does not associate with plebes.

You’re sad? Text me.

You’re feeling lonely? Needy? Insecure?

Sure. By all means, knock on my door.

But if I turn the tables…

Well, let’s just say Thanks for making it clear that I shouldn’t.

Thank you for KNOWING what I need and ignoring it anyway. And that whole cop-out bullshit you fed me…mmmmmm! Tasty! I’m glad I’m so predictable that you know you can get away with the bare minimum and still stay in my good graces because where the fuck else would I ever find a dick like yours?

I mean, we fat, married women couldn’t get laid if we gave it away after Happy Hour at homeless shelter.

Oh. My. GOD!

It’s true, isn’t it? We teach people how to treat us. How far they can push us and how long we’ll put up with their bullshit. We allow it all because we love hard and frankly, we aren’t sure we can do any better.

You ensured that we knew that. Slowly…slowly, but surely  You made sure I knew it without even saying a word.

You ask me what’s wrong, but I can’t tell you because it would be admitting that you had the capacity to hurt me  And if you know what’s wrong and you still don’t fix it? Well what the fuck does that mean? What’s left after that?

At least if I keep it to myself, you won’t know how desperate I am for your validation. Because if you knew and STILL didn’t fix it?

Well, nothing would change except that I’d have no choice but to come face to face with your apathy. And I really can’t handle that right now.

I’m tired, y’all.

I’m so fucking tired.

I’m not perfect. I’m needy and snobby and I expect a lot from the people in my life. I have high hopes and big dreams. I believe in giving more than I receive, just because I CAN. Because I have the will and the capacity.

Because it’s only way you’re going to want me. Accept me. Like me. Love me.

And if you’ve don’t love me? It’s somehow MY failure. I didn’t do enough. I didn’t say the right thing. I didn’t sacrifice enough.

I wasn’t enough for you.

S’okay. I get that a lot.

Truth is, I’m not enough for me, either.