Letter to She-Who Shall not be Named.

Thanks for the edit, Steve.

I wish people knew when to leave me alone & stop acting batshit crazy – obsessive, even.

Over the years I’ve quite a few friends I’ve made & a lesser few that I’ve discontinued contact with. I have noticed that it’s easier to point out the wrongs of others much easier than it is to realize your own. In these cases, it’s hypocritical and blatent to those who have moved on in their lives, but maybe this person will never accept her own faults and shortcomings. We can all talk and talk about staking a claim to a big future for ourselves, but it’s the journey to get there that proves our hard work and determination.

Dear Mz. Stephadillo,

Please don't tell me what to do with my relationships when yours have always resulted terribly and as I said they would. I'm not as stupid as you think. You are leading your "non-boyfriend" on and have been for over a year or so. You know you're terrible for each other, so don't go telling me I'm "setting myself up for another fall." My male companions are crystal clear where we stand, but you wouldn't know that because you do not need to know.

Please don't tell me I am selfish while I am trying to establish a route to serve my country.

Please don't tell me you aren't like your brother: you both use your parents & live at home. At least he has a job. You should be grateful they haven't kicked your insane, disrespectful ass out or made you pay rent.

Please don't tell me I am using people. You haven't spoken to me in over four months. Any personal information is shared with those I find trustworthy & this kind of personal information is on a need-to-know basis. You obviously do not need to know anything about me.

Please don't tell me you're working your ass off in school. Taking one online, open-book medical terminology class at a time from the community college does not impress me in the slightest, or anyone else for that matter. Especially when you and your mother take it together. & she pays for it. & you've dropped out of every class you've signed up for, even Drawing I.

Please don't tell me you're working your ass off, period. Going to work one month a year for your dad, in your jammies, in his air conditioned office on the side of the house, part-time, typing numbers into a computer does not impress me, nor anyone else for that matter. Especially when they pay you over twelve dollars an hour, under the table, & tax-free. I get it: You're totally overworked, I know. I'm not sure if you're employed now, but this is what I knew from before.

Please don't tell me how "strapped for cash" you are: your parents give you a credit limit of $500 a month on a credit card to spend on whatever you want. I'm so sorry they make you buy groceries on occasion for them instead of buying all of your friends hard apple cider, dinners out, and weed. I footed the bill for your $70 birthday dinner; you didn't even send me a fucking thank you note, you ingrate. I also tipped the waitress $30 at another dinner because you bitched about prices of drinks ("$3.50 for a daquiri? Outrageous!") & refused her a tip. Welcome to the real world. Not everything is price Natty Ice.

& most importantly...

Please don't try to tell me what the "real world" is like, because obviously you have no idea. I know Mom & Dad are so mean to you all the time by keeping you comfortable in the upper-middle class & are so mean by providing for you, but I've outgrown that mentality, and you. This is why our friendship is no longer beneficial for either of us.

13 thoughts on “Letter to She-Who Shall not be Named.

    • Haha yeah totally snapz.

      No, I filtered it because I am trying to separate myself from the petty drama. Just needed to vent this after some snarky comments she made toward me in a friend’s LJ… every time I comment it’s something. Kind of like when you write a really mean letter to an exboyfriend, but don’t send it. Just helps you sort stuff out.

  1. More like StephadillOWNED!

    What a slut. And those plaid shorts are hot. I’d bang that girl in the blue. Not really. But really. Of course we would talk about our feelings before and after.

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