The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Have you devolved the last time I met you? Or are you just another Benjamin Button that grows up to be 5 years old- while the rest of us develop into mature people. I feel I shouldn't even be writing about this.. You are the first real drama I've had since.. you.
I mean relax.. nothing was about you. And wow, big movee deleting me off facebook. again.. These kid games are getting worse and irritating more and more as we I move on. I mean I have random strangers who I've to talked to once in my life, which apparently qualifies as friends, according to facebook. You apparently have different ideologies about friendship. As if two years of an intimate relationship were not enough to qualify as a friendship. Do not consider this a request to be your friend- you weren't a great companion (for the lack of confidence in saying a more appropriate noun)- I wouldn't imagine you'd be much of a friend either. I don't even find myself being angry-- just stunned. There you were, seemingly more grown up than half my friends, suddenly pissed off by a random message, which was clearly a joke. Out of my whole contact list, which consists of a few incredibly immature people, you are the one and only who did not get the concept of a joke. Joke: something said or done to provoke laughter. Laughter: "haha"; Not entertaining? It's called ignore, which I'm sure you're used to doing-- especially with me.
Have you developed OCD as well as bipolarism and added it to your list of mental illnesses? Because I swear our last meeting consisted of a not-awkward-actually-enjoyable conversation. I was not pushing to be best friends but simply acquaintances- but it seems you have gotten sick of me somehow.. (from the lack of times we've spent together?) that you feel you want nothing to do with me.
But what just happened here? Was it not you who set the wheels of reuniting running? I simply desired appeasement. The "enemy" thing isn't completely my mindset anymore. Now don't you feel special? A silly little girl actually taking the time and effort to write.. about YOU? I guess my only confusion is why. Do you find pleasure in wrecking an hour of my day? Excitement in reading about yourself? Proud you still manage to affect me after all this time?

This is the end. No unrealistic promises to never involve myself with you, or harsh wishes of misfortune. Just a nod of agreement. You go your way, and I'll continue to go on mine.
Farewell~

Au Revoirrr..

Here’s to another new beginning; one that I undoubtedly have been craving and yearning for.
A year when I get a break from academic responsibilities, late assignments, late classes, late mornings; a time where I can say goodbye to contemplating about what the hell to have for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and midnight snack because the last time I went grocery shopping was yesterday and yet I still feel like I have no food.

Bye to 3am fire alarms, which turn out to be a false alarm—after I had just tried my hardest to make myself fall asleep.

Farewell to real fire alarms, because the guys downstairs were too high and drunk to realize that throwing a cigarette in the garbage full of paper towel was maybe a bad idea.

Ciao to the weird roommate who nobody likes but chooses to deal with—despite the fact that she needs a puke bowl while in the washroom; and the fact that she feels comfortable enough with herself to walk around in her underwear while our boyfriends were visiting. No, we weren’t jealous. It was just disturbing.

Adios, shit cable: where the only channel we were left to watch was TLC; how exciting can wedding dresses get.

So long, “strange” moaning and bed creaking in the night—whoever said our rooms were soundproof were clearly delusional.

Living by yourself has its perks, but I definitely will not miss budgeting for toilet paper, eggs, and soap; I thought we had parents for those?

Au Revoir, Montreal!

Incoming

1 new message, surprise it’d be from you. The moment I thought we were back—I was mislead. Your new advocates proved me wrong. I thought I’d just give you another chance to reignite, but still you were the same. It’s peculiar; I thought I would at least be chosen over miss fat ass that literally no one likes. Someone you yourself did not have a care in the world for. But yet here I am, like the scrawny kid picked last in gym last—if at all. I thought it was just a doubt of innocence, you see. You thought you could surround yourself with a few self-proclaimed angels and suddenly your past is magically erased. I could understand— if I was in your position, I probably would have attempted the same. So I left you be. However, rumours were flying around you had a new friend. Once I found out whom it was—I swear you might as well have picked the devil. What are you thinking? Now I’m lost, her? Really? What does she do for you. I just don’t understand—nor do I want to.

I thought I was over this, but WHAT?! REALLY? I’m still in utter shock. Why even text me, give me false hopes—then ignore my text messages? Oh please, the lame I probably didn’t get it excuse have been overdone and played out. I know you read it, I know you chose to press ignore.

So next time my phone flashes: 1 new message? IGNORE. Right back at you. Like I shoulda done the first time. You’re Plastic. Cold, shiny, hard plastic. You’re a bitch.