Monday, August 31, 2015

I HATE

I hate everything.

I hate my BF.

MOST. OF. ALL.

For being a huge douchey loser idiot who drains me in every way - emotionally, physically, financially, and spiritually. He is a fucking WASTE of humanity. He is rude and arrogant for no reason and FUCKING irresponsible and irrational and STUPID beyond belief, and I wish he would just fucking die sometimes. I honestly wish he would, because then I wouldn't be in this internal turmoil of tryng to decide if I want to put up with all the SHIT I have to to be with him. I wouldn't have to think about his ex being like "Oh I knew it wouldn't last. He doesn't love anyone enough to be a good person, especially not her" and all the other SHIT she would talk. I wouldn't have to deal with  and everyone fucking asking me "why didn't it work out?" and the thought of losing his fucking kids or re-starting my life or trying to figure out if someone else out there would be nice enough to spend time with naked. If he died, then everyone would have pity and not ask me SHIT and give me time to heal and grieve without trying to fuck me immediately. His ex would be decent because there is nothing left to fight over, and I would still get to see his kids because I'm a part of that if he's dead. And I wouldn't have to think about him moving on and being with someone else, but I would fucking GET TO and have a goddamn LIFE again.

Behavior is motivated by feelings. WTF. So like Paul.

Whom I ALSO HATE.

"I'm not a cheater" but I am. I just don't cheat on people who fucking ACT like they love me. I cheat on fucking assholes who have stopped giving a shit about me.

I hate Paul for not having any fucking substance or balls or personality and for being too fucking sweet. I hate that I can't get him out of my head and that he wasn't too douchey for me to not go over to his fucking house and get what I needed. I hate that he's so fucking flaky that it DOES make me overthink things, and I HATE that he called me out about that... I hate that he didn't text me back and that he isn't just grabbing me when I'm around. I hate that he's not Bird or Gerard. I hate that I want to go to his house RIGHT FUCKING NOW, and I probably could but I want a fucking invitation, and I don't get them because he's too STUPID to actually be with and can't do anything right with his life.

I hate Schwetz.

GOD I hate him, and I hope he never fucking texts me again. Don't keep me up all night saying all the right things and pretend like you're some amazing fucking person just to get into my pants or get a jack-off picture. I hate that he's musical and intelligent and charming and that he thought he could pull something over on me. I hate that he complimented me too much and made me feel like it's all BULLSHIT because why would anyone even think that shit about me? Because they DON'T and I hate myself and I know everyone else only tolerates me anyway unless they need a fucking therapist. I hate that me made me feel like I'm interesting and he was interested when it was just a huge fucking LIE and I hate that he won't fucking text me back and it makes me feel like a pathetic ASSHOLE.

I hate sketchy ass boys who have great girls at home or hanging around them that stomp all over other people's feelings and my fear of them which is so great that I would rather put up with the asshole I live with than risk unknowingly dating one.

I hate Laura and Danielle and Jenn for trying so hard to be so fucking supportive when in reality they're just making me feel like a huge pathetic asshole who can't leave her loser boyfriend but they don't fucking UNDERSTAND. I need motherfucking attention, whether it's good or bad, and right now I know that I have that no matter what. I hate that I'm a giant fat disgusting attention whore.

I hate myself.

I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.

I want to die. 

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