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Letter I'll never send (though mostly because you deleted me).

Just for the record, you had no right to say the things you said to me. It was not your place, and I'm not entirely sure where you ever could have gotten the impression that it was.

On that note, how dare you say that I 'overreacted' to a comment you made? What gave you the right to make a comment, especially about my relationship? You don't know me, and you damn well don't know anything about what goes on when you're not around. Fuck you and your 'balls' (which, considering I've always been under the impression that you're female, comes as a shock). Not even you being transsexual would give you the freedom to treat your so-called friends that way, and I'm definitely not going to be the one to lie down and take your shit.

I'm tired of being a doormat, not only to you, but to every friend I've ever had. I'm not taking anything more from your loud, controlling, manipulative, drug-addicted mouth.

You had no right to tell me I was "ungrateful and immature." As if you would know what maturity is - what do you do on a daily basis? You sit around in your apartment that's paid for by the government, smoke worse than any chimney I've ever seen, fail school because you're too busy either spanning the town with friends, or partying in hotel rooms. You were too high to show up to your job on time (ever) and eventually, finally, got yourself fired. Now go ahead and tell me I'm irresponsible. That's totally your place.

I feel you deserved everything I said to you. I wasn't that fucking hard-ass about it, I didn't throw every piece of your shallow little life in your face. I could have, but I didn't. What makes you think you can return fire saying that I've done this all to myself? Quitting smoking and drinking turned you all against me? That was my only change, honestly. You all stopped talking to me because I spent time with him and stopped the harmful shit I was always willing to do in your presence. Oh, that's fucked.

In case you didn't know, every bitch uses the line, "I'm not a bitch. I'm just honest." It somehow makes them feel better about themselves, because they know deep inside that they really are a bitch. This rule doesn't just dissipate when applied to you, in case you didn't know. You're just as loud-mouthed and asshole-ish as anyone else out there. You're bossy, immature, and you don't even have anything good to say, so please stop opening your mouth in the first place.

And by the way, sitting around on the porch with friends and talking is okay. Asking me numerous (extremely detailed) questions about my sex life is not. That's just fucking creepy. If we were close friends, hanging out alone, it might be halfway decent. We, however, are not close friends. In fact, I've never liked you, and I haven't exactly been shy about that fact - did you not take the hint? My 'obligations' to do other things weren't a reality with all of my friends, merely you. Maybe that's where you got the impression that I had done this to myself.

Anyway, it doesn't matter. You're seriously not worth the time of day to me. I don't even feel sorry about the fact that I'm so disgusted by you - you have other friends that are stupid enough to like you, so you'll be just fine. You're a "big girl," and maybe someday you'll act like it.

I'm going to end with this - you have the lowest fucking self-esteem I've ever seen. Otherwise, you wouldn't wear clothes that are seriously way too fucking small for you (how could you NOT notice?!) and you wouldn't have sex with every male that came into your apartment. Grow the fuck up.

As an afterthought, if you're allegedly going to be an English major, you'd better learn to spell. Also, the pot still isn't making you sound smarter. And no, you're not more fun when you're on it, merely a lot more squeaky and fucking irritating.

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