The Middle Finger
My happiness is my middle finger to you. You have made me feel awful about the person I fought to become. You who say one thing to my face and another behind my back. Shove your bruised ego up where the sun doesn't shine because I've decided that YOU.DON'T.MATTER.ANYMORE.
It's almost funny. More than a decade and I still keep hoping for the best in you. That you're not the bad guy you portray yourself to be. That you always have the best of intentions only that it doesn't seem like it at a glance. I felt like people were not giving you enough credit. But I am now realizing that the cost of that has been myself. But no more. It's time I stop making excuses for you. You have crossed the line. And I will not allow you to hurt me in any capacity ever again.
So goodbye. At the bottom of this all, whatever chemistry or history or whatever we had, I had the confidence that friendship was the foundation that could not be shaken. Apparently, I was wrong. It only made you feel like you had the license to test my resolve and cry foul when I stood firm. You are a jerk of the highest order. And I refuse to let you make me doubt myself ever again.