Queen Fabulous.

To the reader: If this is your first time on my blog, many greetings; If you've been here before, happy returns to you. Everything you read here will be my genuine unfiltered thoughts and secrets, explaining in full detail everything about me, piece by piece. I wish that you read on without prejudice or judgement, for I am not a perfect person, and I hope that you can connect and empathize with my life's story. -Alex

I am angry.

I am disappointed. I am hurt. I am a catastrophe comprised of all the exhilarating colours that come to mind when people think of explosions, war, and crumbling nations.

I am furious.

I am disappointed because in the last two years that I have known you, I have never seen you lose control of yourself like you did last night; to go so far as to let a random stranger make out with you, and grope you, and get sexually intimate with you for a good hour and a half, when you couldn't even pronounce his name properly when I asked you if you even knew him.

I am hurt, because I broke up with you because I was a negative influence on your life. I was draining you, so despite the fact that I loved you, I made the choice to break away before I would be an even bigger hindrance. I wanted to be able to stay friends, but even then you would hold my hand, pull my shirt, and hold hugs longer than you should, and you'd whisper to me that you missed me.

And I would refrain from saying anything, because if I did, I don't know whether or not I'd be able to stay away from you any more. I wanted the best for you.

But you suddenly self-destructing like that, to just let yourself get wasted on alcohol, and be overrun by whatever thought was in your head when a man with a beard starts kissing you? I didn't react aggressively. I wanted to, but I didn't. I made sure you stopped drinking any more, and I gave you water to help cleanse whatever alcohol you had in your system.

I am furious.

Furious because after all that, you still wanted to drive home. Because suddenly you were endangering yourself for no reason. Because everything I cared about, you wanted to risk in a drunken drive home at three in the morning.

I fucked up.

I was the bigger fool for thinking that we could still retain some form of friendship, like decent human beings. I genuinely hoped that we could have a positive relationship without it having to be intimate.

I totally miscalculated the fact that you're a total bitch and I'm a total animal.

So feel free to step down from your high horse anytime, Queen Fabulous. I was getting sick of your vanity anyway. I meant what I said when I gave you your car keys.

A five-word story for you: "Get out of my life."


23rd September - Addendum:

Let's assume for a minute that you do want to be friends, and in one way or another want me back in your life.

What if I dont? What if I don't care to be part of your life anymore?

We're pretty much done talking. You made it perfectly apparent that you clearly have control over what you're doing with your life. I don't need us arguing, especially since everytime I try to defend my points you have to point out that I'm the one messing up, that everything is my fault. I really don't need that reminder. The entire basis of our breakup was the fact that I'm a total fuck-up, a fact you like to bring up again and again.

Maybe I've just had enough of that.

What's so great about picking up the pieces?
What if I don't even want to?