So now, apparently, I’m a liar. I’m a liar because I have been busy lately – too busy to call or write an e-mail, but I’m not busy enough to pick up a friend from the airport. Yeah, never mind the fact that I was busy because I wanted to pick this friend up from the airport. Never mind the fact that calling or replying to those e-mails drains me of all energy and take up more time than I care to invest consider how I get absolutely nothing out of it except raised expectations, more demands, conversations I don’t want to have and questions I don’t want to answer. Sure, I’m a liar. Fuck you. You’re destroying any possibility of friendship. When was the last time you told any other friend that they were ignoring and neglecting you because you hadn’t spoken to them in a week? When was the last time you told another friend, repeatedly, how disappointed you were with them? When was the last time you questioned the motives, actions and reasoning of any other friend and crossed the boundaries of civility? When was the last time you accused, again, your friend of being a liar without having anything but assumptions and suspicions? And how many of these friends kept returning your calls?
Fuck you. Fuck your dysfunctions. Fuck your “love.” That’s not love, that’s dominion. And don’t pretend like I haven’t told you this before. I’ve been telling you that for years! Even if you read this, which I hope you don’t, I’d be surprised if your response to this would be any sort of self-reflection. Regardless, you need a little self-reflection and if the first words out of your mouth or by your hand are not “I’m sorry,” I don’t ever need to hear from you again.
