This is a piece written in anger — anger against all the girls and guys who talk shit about others behind their backs or pretend to be a friend when they never were in the first place. This is about all the girls who whispered secrets behind my back and spread rumors to get under my skin. And it’s about all the times that I allowed it to happen. I allowed them to get into my head and to ruin my perception of myself. I allowed their words to affect me and get under my skin. I allowed them to win without ever showing them that they were. I never responded with spreading vicious rumors about them or picking cat fights in public places. I never even spoke out a word of defense for myself because I was too stunned that someone would dare not like me. I am well loved by many, including complete strangers — how could these bitchy girls actually find something to not like about me? I am sweet and soft spoken and have never been described as cruel by anyone besides my mother in my teenage years. I can count on one hand the number of people who outwardly did not like me and felt the need to express it to those I trust. And those I trust always relayed it back to me, taking my side when I never asked them to. I could always trust the ones I kept by my side and I always felt betrayed by those who would dare go behind my back when I had given them nothing but honesty and kindness. There was Melissa who didn’t like that I started on the soccer team that my dad coached. And there was Christie who didn’t like that I was dating her ex-boyfriend. They both started high school rumors about how bad I am at things or that I was a huge prude, but I never allowed it to really get under my skin. I let them talk shit to everyone around me, completely oblivious to it happening, and when the rumors did make it to me, I brushed them off as the silly talk of girls and never really let it amount to anything. I knew their criticism was immature and unjustified and that they were doing it to make themselves feel better. But this time I let it happen. I didn’t start it but I finished it for the first time in my life, and the weight of my words not continuously crush my kind heart. I know what I said was out of repressed anger and that there was so much more that I would never say to her. I know that I am happier without her in my life and that we were never really good friends even after seven years of trying to make it work. I know that I only put up with her for the sake of my brother, and that we never truly got along. But I also know that I hate leaving things on a bad note. I hate passive aggressive battles and bitchy glances across crowded rooms. I hate that I am over it but she will not allow me to be. I said what I thought I finally needed to say, but it didn’t have the effect I was looking for. I sunk to her level and I think that’s what bothers me more than anything. I hate that I became what I hate and that now I am stuck in that image, never to be repaired. I hate that she won in the end. It was never about keeping points in the past, but she makes me want to and I can’t let it go. I want to apologize just to fix things and smooth the awkwardness over, but I don’t want to allow her that. I want to be the bigger person, but she makes me feel small and cornered and the need to fight my way out of corners viciously no matter what casualties may happen. She makes me hate myself a little bit and she makes me regret ever attempting to be friends with her in the first place. I wanted to be mature and rise above this and not allow it to bother me, but I can’t. I feel the need to talk shit, spread rumors and vent to anyone willing to listen. She makes me want to slander her name on social media and never see her face again. She makes me wish her a life filled with as much hate and anger as she makes me feel so that she will never know what it is like to truly be happy. I wish the worst for her and I hate that she makes me do it. I have never hated someone and I find it exhausting to hold a grudge. I don’t like fighting and I avoid conflict with others to my own deprecation. And the one time I stood up for myself, I am ashamed of the words that came out of me. I invited hate and anger into my life, but I felt like she pushed me there. I have never left a friendship on bad terms and I hate that this one was in my control and I chose to handle it badly. I hate what she made me and I hate that I can’t seem to shake my shame. I hate that I want to apologize for nothing and that I want to allow her to win the battle I never intended on starting. I hate my pride and wish that I could rise above it and ignore her grasping to continue pulling me down even after she is no longer in my life. I hate the hate and myself for allowing it into my life. There is so much more for me to be caring about in life, yet my guilt and her face always seems to surface when I am least expecting it — in the early mornings or late nights, when I should be thinking about what I want to do with my day and the people I would see. I get anxiety just thinking about running into her around town and I allow myself to avoid social situations because of it. I want to prove to her that my life is better without her, and provoke her to apologize to me. But I know that will never happen. I know this is my own guilt and that talking to her could only make things worse. I know I just have to let it go, but there is an immature side of me that does not want to loose the battle. Killing her with kindness is the choice I try to take, but in the end I always just want to just kill her instead. I can’t explain it, and I don’t think I will ever understand the hate, but I can try to let it go from my life. I can try to move on and let things lie. I can never fix this one alone, and I don’t need to. If it is meant to happen it will, but in the mean time I need to just let it go — otherwise it will get the best of me and I will have invited hate into my life to stay. And I would hate myself way more than her if I allowed that to happen over a silly tift over text. She makes me feel like I am in high school again, surrounded by the bitchy girls I hate. And I have the opportunity to let that go from my life once again. I don’t have to live like this and I don’t have to fix everything. Some relationships were never friendships in the first place and I can’t leave everyone on good terms. There will be those who hate me, but all I can do is cease to invite them to be a part of my life. I will no longer invite her in and I will allow bygones be bygones. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. I don’t hate her face and I don’t hate who she is, I just hate who she makes me and that may be worse than any rumor that could be spread about me.
I woke up with a slight hangover and a slight reminder of what I was attempting to escape from. I was on a one way mission to get drunk last night and forget about all the responsibility I have in life — not because I hate my life but because it had all just become too much for me to bother managing any more. Continue reading