Rant in bitch minor
Fuck, it’s been ages since i posted here.
Sorry. I find dealing with the reality i have at home far too exhausting to write about it. My distractions I document elsewhere, and frankly I’d rather write about them. This is my creativity, this is my soul satisfaction.
However, I’ve opened up my elsewhere to important people — and by default, a troll has found me. The troll knows me IRL, kinda, and has been asked politely but firmly not to read my elsewhere.
She says she won’t read there, of course not, she understands my need for privacy. She respects that, she respects me, she loves me like a sister.
The fucking cunt is a LIAR.
Not only does she read me but she has read me constantly and consistently since she found my elsewhere. She is an insecure, passive aggressive bitch and she is pissing me off. To feed her would be to award her the (albeit negative) attention she craves. I will not do that. She deserves my contempt, my pity — perhaps my sympathy, but right now I am far too angry at her willful flouting of my polite and logical request that since we share the same *circumstance*, she butt the fuck out of the intimate details and concentrate on her own.
Naturally, of course, instead of concentrating on her own details, she compares herself to me and mine. Big mistake. Huge. Not only am i way out of her league, but she completely fails to appreciate what it is that she actually has. And i even told her, the second time i politely but firmly requested that she keep her snout out of my biscuits, that she was being a fool to herself — comparing her situation to mine, all infused with NRE, is futile. What she has is in fact several stages more mature and more established. Were i in her shoes, i would be delighted. She has a keepsake that symbolizes so much more, one that – if I am completely honest – I would be suffused with joy to be offered. However, no such keepsake is currently on the horizon for me, as far as I can see, so i don’t push the subject and I try not to think about it.
But the passive aggression is getting me down. She asked me never to speak of her behind her back — which not only would I never have done, but i promised her faithfully, with all good integrity, that I would never do. She then proceeded to do just that about me. Pouring poison into the ears of others because of her own selfish insecurities and immature jealousies.
She had the gall to ask my forgiveness for something she wrote about me on another site. I forgave her — i am secure enough in myself, and in my situation (keepsake or no, it’s a case of timing and not intent) to be able to not assume the guilt that she throws on me like so much fecal garbage. I allow it to roll off my back, and stand clean in it’s midst. I know that this is not about me, it’s about her, and i leave her to stew, bubble and eventually ferment with any luck, in her own juices. But i cannot lie to you, it hurts. It hurts a lot when someone slaps you in the face. It fades and is eventually forgotten. But it hurts.
This is my salve, this is my ointment. By expounding my hurt, my rage, my anger here, i heal. I stand apart. I value and cherish what I have and i cast her aside like an unwanted pebble from the inside of a shoe.
I was her friend, and would have continued to be her firned — and I ma loyal, i am trustworthy, I am a friend worth having. She has missed out on that, and that is her imense loss.
I feel sorry for her, i can’t even bring myself to hate her. It requieres too much emotion and i am not prepared to invest any more energy in her. This is mysanctuary and it allows me to draw a line — this is the end. Aside from this and possible future rants, i will not allow her the satisfaction, even unknown, of bothering me any more.