Boys suck.
Excerpt from Bri’s diary in 2-7-07
I’ve realized what the trye meaning of a jerk is.
A jerk is someone who pretends to be your friend for a while, then decides not to talk to you much or starts being rude to you, and then, when they need help, they come to you. After you help them, they lapse back into ignoring you.
That is a true jerk. A jerk isn’t someone who calls you fat, stupid, or ugly. Those people don’t even know you. A jerk is someone who actually gets to know you, learns about your strengths and insecurities, and THEN calls you names, while still expecting you to help them out. A one-sided deal.
Parasitism is the relationship between two organisms where one benefits at the others expense. Parasitism. Like a bad friendship. A jerk is a parasite. A bad friend is a jerk. Therefore; STOP PRETENDING TO BE MY FRIEND. IT’S NOT WORKING ANYMORE. YOU AREN’T WORTH MY TIME, SO STOP WASTING MY LIFE AS WELL AS YOUR OWN AND GO AWAY.
–end of transcript–
And now, I’d like to add a bit more.
I trusted you. I forgave you. I believed in you. I helped you. I cried for and over you. Is this how you repay me? Is this the reward for being a good friend?
Five years of my life I wasted on you. I knew all along that I would get hurt, but I waited for you anyways. I was your friend anyways. Do you see this quote above? That was a little more than a year ago, but that’s not the only quote I have. I’ve been saying the same thing about you in my journals ever since I met you. Does that make this my fault? Maybe. But at least, before I sleep at night, I know that I did my best to you. I was my best for you, because I thought you deserved that.
Don’t I deserve some respect, if not a little credit? Don’t I deserve your acknowledgment of my existence? Apparently not.
“Dorky, nerdy, strange, annoying. I’m done.”
Those words will forever be burned into my mind. And you know what the worst part is? I would do it again. I’m so emotionally dependent on you that I would risk my feelings and my psychological health to help you through your hard times. I haven’t even learned anything. So where do we stand now?
You’ll never read this, but that’s ok. Maybe one day I’ll email it to you, but I doubt you’ll even give it a second glance. I know you deleted the notification that I subscribed to you on YouTube. I know you deleted all the texts from this summer and from the beginning of the school year. I know you got every single email I sent you in the past few months, but I also know that you don’t care. Destroying my life and mental well being means nothing to you, does it?
You say you’re done. Maybe this time you’ll mean it. Maybe I’ll be better off. Or maybe we’ll just start over again, with me apologizing for your cold heart, and you pretending that what I do even matters.
