Angry and bitter, party of me.

I've been called a lot of things over my almost 24 years on earth. I had high school friends lovingly call me "conceited" - and yeah, since the shoe fit, I wore it (and oh I wore it good). Random guys and girls like to call me "bitch" and it's probably because they're jealous of how awesome I am, so that's fine. I even had a close friend call me the dreaded "C" word - to be fair, I don't remember why, but I probably deserved it. That little quibble hurt and propelled us into a few months of silence but now things are fine. I've mostly forgiven him. (Mostly.) So I'm used to being verbally abused, per se. Sticks and stones may break my bones, and words will make me laugh and probably hit you and then laugh some more, but they certainly won't hurt me.

Except when I give three years of my life to a person and it's classified as "a little hiccup."

Not going to lie, that hurts a little bit. To sum up an entire 36-month relationship as basically a bump in the proverbial road of life is a little... I don't know, ridiculous, don't you think? Especially considering the copious amount of time and energy and money that I put into that relationship - apparently that all meant a whole lot of nothing. It's nice to know that driving to Syracuse twice a week for three years - that's 160 miles a week, times 156 weeks = 24,960 miles (take a few thousand to make up for the three breakups but give a few thousand for the random road trips) - was really worth it. Thanks so much, my car really appreciated all the extra unnecessary miles.

Maybe I'm reading too far into the "little hiccups" comment, as I'm wont to do. But some of my actions were also construed as a "decent amount of bullcrap" so now I'm thinking that mayhaps I'm not reading between the lines here. And okay... I get it. I put boys through a variety of meaningless bullhocky basically because I can. And by "variety of meaningless bullhocky" I mean I ask them to do really simple nice things that any normal human being would do if they possessed one bit of compassion. Like pull up the car when there's a big puddle or giant snow hill because I don't ever wear appropriate footwear. Or hold my hand and not roll your eyes when I'm trying to jump over the big puddle in the road that you just HAD to park in because you don't care that I wear inappropriate footwear. Or take me out to Applebee's because I just want a goddamn meal in which I can EXPECT what's going to be on the plate in front of me instead of a Vietnamese place where I have to eat shitty pho with tendon-y meatballs. Or not whine when I want to go to ~yet another~ Gridley Paige show. Because I don't care if you think they're just another mediocre cover band, I love Gridley Paige and you should just put up with it since you're getting regular sex from me.

You know, normal shit like that.

Deep breaths.

And okay, maybe I can tend to get a bit obnoxious with boys. If I had been labeled "obnoxiously annoying skank" I wouldn't fight it. When the time comes to heave ho and I can't yet bring myself to say it, I get a little... uh, weird. Like I cancel out on things that have been planned for a long time because the thought of driving in a car for four hours is nauseating. Or I say that I'm busy and go get coffee with my best friend (who, for the last time, I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH FOR FUCK'S SAKE) instead. That's fine though, because I know that boys do the same thing. Ten bucks says 3/4ths of the guys I've dated have skipped plans with me to go bitch to their bros about how awkward I am.

But really, the normal end-stage distancing that doesn't warrant discounting three years of (what I consider... or considered) an awesome relationship, right? Maybe it's generic ranting, or maybe it's part of the natural mourning process.... but I take huge offense to my time and effort being trivialized into nothingness. I may have done some things wrong, but it's not like the other party made mistakes either. I figured we were letting bygones be bygones in the breakup - hell, we've even spoken a few times since, and everything seemed hunky dory pie, but evidently I was a bigger bitch than I thought and I deserve to have all my efforts knocked into oblivion.

Fine.

So for that, I'll leave you all with this nice quote from my friends in Punchline. Because now I listen to them without any ~witty retorts~ about how ~punk rock~ they are.

I've got some news... I might like it better without you, baby.

PS: Hope you're enjoying all of the random hiccups I left you with over the last three years, dude I evidently wasted three years of my young life with. I hope you're especially loving the PS3 I bought you...