"why are we even friends?"

and when she pisses me off to the point where in my head the silent mantra of "don't get violent, dont get violent."

goes around and around.

not violence toward her. never toward her.

self-inflected.

taken out on inanimate objects.

and the mantra fails.

and i punch a mirror.

i yell at the top of my lungs until my throat feels ripped.

all she needs to fucking do is put forth some god damn effort.

that's all she ever had to do.

and she doesnt.

so, instead, im sitting here, hating her, hating me.

ill never respect myself.

not if i keep up with this shit.

and even if, years later, we've moved on and i feel no anger or very little hurt by what she's done, even if all that happens, i still wont respect myself for being her fucking puppy dog.

for believing she loved me when she just loved being with someone.

for trusting her.

for seeing good in her that is so fucking buried now it might not be there anymore.

if it ever was.

all i need is for her to meet me more than halfway once or twice.

but fuck her, eh.

fuck her and fuck the way she hurts me and fuck the way she says "i havent done anything to you."

and how she says "you'll never have kids."

and how she says "you can't have a family."

and how she says "i dont know why you're still upset by all this."

fuck her.

i deserve better than that.

i think.

and emily deserves better than me.