Book reviews, film anaylses, and general hysterics from a waitress turned historian.
Friday, February 28, 2014
"And you walk away with a great little story of a mess of dreamer with nerve to adore you." Those lyrics sum up what still hurts. Because you know what? Any decent person would have apologized for being such a royal asshole. I'm serious, here. He knows he did damage. He knows he's the exacerbated my illness. Yet, he lacks the balls to take responsibility for his actions. That pisses me off. Don't get me wrong. I dodged a bullet where he's concerned. Let's face it, I've had a licensed professional tell me he's toxic. And he is. But I know that's not how He spins it. No, not at all. He's got that great little story of the Girl Who Waited and the Girl Who Cried. I hate that. "Every smile you fake is so condescending counting all the scars you made. And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through I've never been anywhere cold as you."