My Whole Wheat Life is not easy.

And I miss you.

But you hurt me.

Every time you try to talk to me and we both know you haven’t left your boyfriend or care about me. Every time…I get a little angrier.

I don’t need a friend. I don’t need a pen pal. I don’t need someone to talk to. I don’t need a “hello.” And I don’t need you to tell me you love me.

Because what does that have to do with the price of beans in China? From where you are and from where I am, love doesn’t mean a motherfucking thing. We can be in love forever, but it doesn’t change the fact that you don’t think I’m good enough.

So go fuck yourself.

I spend so much time alone. I mean, soooooo much time. And I spend most of it thinking about you. But at least when I wake up in the morning, I’m not living a lie. I put myself out there. I got hurt. You don’t want me. Fine. Someone else will. Because I’m funny, smart, cute, amazing in bed, attentive, and (as long as they don’t have a boyfriend on the side) I am the nicest/most caring/least psycho chick out there.

No ones fault but your own that you brought out the worst in me.

I love you, but I’m not waiting for shit. So fuck off.