I thought this place would be home. Moving in with my two best friends, not giving a damn about anything, living our lives together. I thought this would be the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's not.
Sasha's pregnant. She's going to move out soon enough. We've lived until his Josie for two fucking months and I haven't seen her at all during that time.
Jordan, my gay best friend, hasn't been honest with me. He's been skirting around his extra curricular activities like I'm going to judge him for them when he knows damn good and well that I don't judge anyone.
So here I am again. Here I am with my inferiority complex. Here I am at three am on my fucking birthday wondering where everything went wrong.
Was it me? Was it this house? Was it just our friendship, doomed from the start?
I don't know. I don't know who or what to blame this on.
But for once I at least know that it's not me.
I am so fucking sick of taking the blame for everything. For feeling like shit because other people made me feel like shit. I'm done. I am so done felling inferior.
I am sick a good fucking friend to all of these people that make it seem so easy to kick me to the curb. So you know what? Fuck them. Fuck them all.
I will know my worth and I refuse to forget that. And if they can't see it, then I will find people who are a little less blind.
You're welcome for giving you grade A advice and sticking with you through every crisis. I can't believe it took me so long to see it. It was never me. It was always them. Always.
So I'm done. I'm not doing this to myself anymore. This is what you call "self respect."
Goodbye. And good riddance.
