(This is a rant. An angsty rant. You have been warned.)
I should stop defending your case. You always know how to how to dangle your “time” and “affection” so that I’d come running back to you when you can afford it. I should learn to stop giving you chances because I always end up staring at crumpled and torn versions of said chances when they get thrown back to my face. And I should learn to stop hoping that, when you decide to not be a bitch, this time around it’ll last. I’m tired of your moodiness. I’m tired of making excuses for you and your behavior, both to myself and to others. I’m tired of giving you chances. I’m tired of silently wiping away tears of both frustration and hopelessness. I’m tired. I’m just fucking tired.
I haven’t even slept yet, aside from the peaceful hour and a half that I spent sleeping along the second floor corridor.
I know you have your own burdens to carry, but shit, we all have our unwanted baggage hanging off every possible appendage. So fuck off, I’m trying to carry mine without dumping it on others. I’m not even going to tell you stuff about my life anymore. I won’t volunteer information. If you want it, ask for it. Otherwise, no, I’m done. I’m so through with this.