Thursday, August 4, 2011

To the mother from hell.

To my darling Mother.
I am not going to start in on the insults; you are not worth it. But please, I would like to know, why do you bother my ex on my birthday when you already know we have split up? Why waste your time and his calling him and being your usual sweet, gorgeous, crazy-as-all-fuck self attempting to get my phone number, a number you already have, and then becoming blatantly insulting when you fail to make him give you details you know none of my friends or relatives would give you?

Also, when I call you back in an attempt to get you off his back, why do you act like you dont care? We both know thats untrue. If it was true, you wouldnt have wasted your morning trying to get in touch with me via him. Another thing Mother dear; do not play stupid with me. It does not work. I am not going to give you any more information than the bare basics of vague quality, no matter how hard you puch or how much you ask sweetly in that 'but-I-really-am-worried' way. I don't care if you actually ARE worried my dear mother, for all I care of your worrying, you can go to hell. No return ticket provided.

Another thing. Do not ask me questions to which you already know the answer, just because you want the smug satisfaction of hearing it from my lips. Yes, we have split for good. Your opinion on this however, is invalid. You try giving me one? I'll shive it so far up your behind you wont be able to sit for a week. ANd if you TRY insulting me with offers of a stable home environment and financial security now that I have ended that relationship EVER again, we'll have to have close and personal words, don't you agree?

And by the by; where I am currently living, how I am living, and with WHOM I am living? NONE of your business. Just because you are interested in my life, doesnt mean I asm going to give you those details. My boyfriend does not need to put up with the shit that having you around causes. None of us need to put up with the shit you generate, period. And why would I tell you where I live anyhow? So you can come and break into my house and bitch at me all over again? So you can corner my boyfriend and rant at him, a new face, about what you think of people kidnapping your daughter, when all it really was was you driving me out? Fuck. Off.

Another class point. When you decide we need to sit down and talk things out, tell me. We need to do it, and we both know it, but your complete mental imbalance of self destruction obviously disagrees with this idea, otherwise you wouldnt reply to me saying 'and about that, when do you want to discuss all our issues?' with the CLASSIC line of 'What issues?'.

So. That's all for now. I think we can clear it up with simply putting it as 'stay the fuck out of my life and never try that shit again, bitch.' I hope I get invited to your wake, it'll be fun.

Yours truly,

No comments:

Post a Comment