trying to get it all out.

fuck you.
age is deceiving.
when you lied about your age and said you were only 29 (even though you were 39) you should have kept on going.
you were 8. or at least you acted that way and many times i felt like i was babysitting you.

fuck off.
you are everything you hate about other people.
you discriminate so much you have limited yourself.
and now you’re one of them.
and you’re right.
i don’t like those people much either.

i’m glad i never let you destroy my hope in love.
in retrospect, i’m glad i only gave you time.
i could have given you my heart.
you could have even had my soul.
my love.
in fact, i define love as life without you ruin it.

but who cares about me now?
let’s keep talking about you.
your sorrows, depressions, problems, concerns, etc.
we could talk forever on that subject.
except i’d kill myself first.

and fuck your “stuff”, your “things”, your “cars”…
at least my life is better than yours.
at least I have love or the hope of it.
at least i’m a better person.
at least i know what i want.

and yeah, he’s better than you.
in every single fucking way.
taller, smarter, bigger, better, sweeter, funnier, -er, -er, -er….
and he doesn’t make me cry.
he makes me smile, laugh, moan, scream, cry out in limitless waves of pleasure.
you want to know more, asshole?