WARNING: Contains copious amounts of whiny teenage girl. This giant rant goes out to MY EX-BOYFRIEND TYLER, who I stared dating almost a whole year ago, so stay clear if you’d rather not hear about my constant bitching and boy problems ^P^b
ALSO: In which I retell events that makes me realize, GIRLS, DON’T WAIT FOR STUPID BOYS/OTHER STUPID PEOPLE TO APPRECIATE YOU. Appreciate yourself and you’ll become much more comfortable with yourself. I had to learn that the hard way.
you’re a fucking asshole. I don’t care if I’m a bitch anymore, honestly, I don’t. I’d rather be a raging bitch and be in control of my feelings and be proud to be a bitch for all of the little things I’ve done than the shit you’ve done to me that I know will be long-lasting.
You know, all the things you said to me was honestly the first time I ever cried myself to sleep. And it wasn’t just a one time thing either. Multiple instances. I remember lying in bed for hours, just crying, breathing frantically. How you told me that I was just going to be your short-term girlfriend and that I wasn’t your type of girl at all. I bawled my eyes out, knowing I wasn’t good enough.
I had to struggle just to get you to go out with me, AND I WAS THE ONE WHO MADE ALL OF THE FIRST MOVES. I asked you out. You didn’t have to do jack shit. You still had feelings for another one of my friends, which was entirely awkward as fuck, but I was willing to repair the damage between you two.
But you know, I got over that, but still you teased me. You teased me like no other person has. Even people who hate me haven’t said things as nasty as you. Of course, you thought it was funny. But it hurt. It still hurts. And I told you to stop, but you said I was being too sensitive. WELL EXCUSE ME, I HAPPEN TO HAVE FEELINGS.
What the hell did I see in you to begin with? Fuck if I know. What did you see in me? Tits. Lady parts. I’m pretty sure the only reason you went out with me was because you were pretty much forever alone and I was the only girl who was stupid enough to stick with you.
And I can’t believe I let you pressure me into doing all of the things we did together. I think I was mainly concerned about making you happy, doing anything you wanted to do. I was stupid and naive, thinking it was love. I know I loved you, I haven’t felt the same way about any other person. I would think of you just at random points in the day and feel comforted.
I can still remember the feeling of wrapping my arms around you, or lying down next to you and nuzzling into your neck. I still remember you picking me up and carrying me around or spinning me around and jokingly threw me down onto your bed. I still remember your kisses and how great your arms felt around me.
God you were such a wonderful kisser. You had the best lips, and I was totally comfortable around you. We could laugh like dorks and screech and make ridiculous voices and it didn’t even matter.
Last summer was pretty much the best summer of my life, you know. I’d go over to your house, we’d hang out, and go downstairs, you’d fix me lunch and we’d just watch tv together. I’d lay down on your chest and curl up next to you. You were always so warm, and would put extra effort into keeping me warm too.
We went through so many firsts together, I thought that you’d want me around. Fuck, you even took me camping. You’d send me good morning texts, and just random interludes in the day with “Hey babe” and tell me all of the sweet things I wanted to hear.
It was because of you that I learned to love my body, and it was because of you that I became pretty much totally content with my breast size as well as embraced my femininity. I loved all of these things about myself that I hadn’t even paid much attention to, but I can’t believe that I couldn’t love myself before you happened.
And I can’t believe that shit you pulled when you were breaking up with me. “I love you, you know”. You paused and gave me just enough time to think that our ‘break’ was going to result in us getting back together like we did the first time, and everything would be perfect again. And then your pause ended in “as a friend.”
The thing that hurts the most though, are the good memories. Yeah, I’d rather have only the bad memories left to make me remember what a fucking bastard you were and how much of a user you are. But the good memories make me want you back.
BUT EVERYTHING STILL REMINDS ME OF YOU. The clothes I wore, comments about my perfume, my hair, the places we went together. I still have the route I’d take on my bike to get to your house memorized. I still have your whole house mapped out in my brain.
And I want to forget it so bad. I think I’ve just romanticized you so much in my head that I’m desperate for the Tyler I once loved. But I don’t even care about the Tyler i see in the hallways practically every day.
Sure, whenever I see you I get fired up and try to look as happy and content with life as I’ve ever been, laughing hysterically with friends and grinning. I want to wear all of the clothes you loved seeing me in and flaunt them, “you lost out on this hot ass.”
I want to make you regret breaking up with me. And then if you do, tell you to fuck off. Yeah there were good moments, yeah there were terrible moments. But you’ve changed me in a way that I can’t revert back from. But that doesn’t even matter, I feel more confident in myself now than I ever did before dating you.
But you know what? All of this shit just makes me realize how important my friends are to me. And I mean all of my friends. God, I can’t even underline how important my friends are to me. You guys comfort me, and you put up with me, and listen to all of the shit I spout and like. WOW I CAN’T BELIEVE I HAVE THE BEST FRIENDS ON PLANET EARTH.
yeah I should prolly end my rant here.
tl;dr: Fuck you asshole boyfriend, I don’t need you. My friends are all I need…and perhaps some tall lovely nerd to come whisk me away and we will have ROMANTIKU EVENTS in college but like omg no boys for a few years pls.