A Weekend Wasted

No. Just no. You walk into my house, eat my food, make love to me fuck me in my bed and then five minutes later decide to walk out my door? “But I want to make memories with my friends. I consider you my best friend, but sometimes I want to hang out without you.” Fuck that and fuck you. What did you do yesterday? “Oh I’m gonna hang out with the boys, and I’ll come over in a few hours. I’ll be sure to keep you updated.” SIX FUCKING AM: “Still up?” You know what? Yeah, I’m up. Because I made plans with you and I was going to be damn sure to follow them through. Oh you’re in no condition to drive? Sure I’ll come to you. Oh you’re ready for bed at 8 AM? Sure. We can have sex and then you can hold me. And of course because it all feels so right in your arms I’m going to forgive you. I’m going to say that everything is okay. I’m going to let you put me through all of this shit once again. The insecurity. The fear. The loneliness. The crippling anxiety. And most of all the fucking heart wrenching pain.

I’m not mad that you want to see your friends. I’m not mad when you need alone time. The thing is you left five minutes after fucking me and then they finally arrived two hours later. Not even that though. I enjoy their company, and I could use a break from being alone every now and then. What do I ask for? I ask for some time to enjoy some people who’s company doesn’t bore me, who don’t ask anything from me, who I don’t feel the need to impress, and who genuinely seem to like spending some time with me. You? You’re too busy being selfish and looking out for you. Oh I make them laugh? They think I’m great? Can’t have that now can we. Nope. You enjoy being the belle of the ball, sweetheart.

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