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Why are there people who don't seem to understand being told to screw off?
I'm sitting, on a date, and my cell phone goes off, right? Text message. Not something uncommon, for me. I've got a lot of people who text me, some who do so now and then even if they know I'm on a date.
However, this one wasn't from any of the usual suspects. No, this one was from Asshat himself.
Yes, the Great Ex Boyfriend of Asshattishness.
Requesting, once again, to talk to me, to be friends with me.
I ignored it. Last time we spoke on even vaguely friendly terms, I told him I was never speaking to him again. I don't want anything to do with him and his stalkerish obsession with me.
He expects that somehow, my decision will change if he keeps bothering me from time to time. But... no. Not after what he said to me, not after that email he sent declaring me a slut, a whore. Not after how he messed up.
I don't believe he still cares, he's just obsessed with what he can't have. Because I've made it perfectly clear that he can't have me, not now, not ever, not at all.
Somehow I'm seeing Bartleby and Loki, trying to get back into Heaven despite the fact that it would end all of creation for them to succeed. But I am not a forgiving God, I'm only human.
And while I have been known to forgive and forget, I won't be stepped on. He's had his chances at forgiveness, and he's blown them. End of story.
...I know you're reading this, because I know you stalk my journal, and Niisan's. Just leave me the hell alone already. I don't want your attention. GO AWAY. How many ways can I say it?
How many times do I have to?
You don't want me back. You want the ideal you've created around what we could have been back. You want the idyllic, happy little thing you see here, not the pain and anger and frustration. Remember my fists, the way I would scream and strike out? You were barely a step to recovery. You only made me realise it was a real problem, something I needed to stop. But you weren't the solution. You never could have been. Stop texting me when you're drunk.
Get over it. Turn around, walk away, and for god's sake don't look back.
I'm sitting, on a date, and my cell phone goes off, right? Text message. Not something uncommon, for me. I've got a lot of people who text me, some who do so now and then even if they know I'm on a date.
However, this one wasn't from any of the usual suspects. No, this one was from Asshat himself.
Yes, the Great Ex Boyfriend of Asshattishness.
Requesting, once again, to talk to me, to be friends with me.
I ignored it. Last time we spoke on even vaguely friendly terms, I told him I was never speaking to him again. I don't want anything to do with him and his stalkerish obsession with me.
He expects that somehow, my decision will change if he keeps bothering me from time to time. But... no. Not after what he said to me, not after that email he sent declaring me a slut, a whore. Not after how he messed up.
I don't believe he still cares, he's just obsessed with what he can't have. Because I've made it perfectly clear that he can't have me, not now, not ever, not at all.
Somehow I'm seeing Bartleby and Loki, trying to get back into Heaven despite the fact that it would end all of creation for them to succeed. But I am not a forgiving God, I'm only human.
And while I have been known to forgive and forget, I won't be stepped on. He's had his chances at forgiveness, and he's blown them. End of story.
...I know you're reading this, because I know you stalk my journal, and Niisan's. Just leave me the hell alone already. I don't want your attention. GO AWAY. How many ways can I say it?
How many times do I have to?
You don't want me back. You want the ideal you've created around what we could have been back. You want the idyllic, happy little thing you see here, not the pain and anger and frustration. Remember my fists, the way I would scream and strike out? You were barely a step to recovery. You only made me realise it was a real problem, something I needed to stop. But you weren't the solution. You never could have been. Stop texting me when you're drunk.
Get over it. Turn around, walk away, and for god's sake don't look back.
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