Needless to say and I suppose unfortunately, it comes with the territory that when one part of your life ends, there is a good chance that some of the friends that were part of your life will go as well. Though often no one wants to admit it, it’s the truth. There are some people that after a certain period, you just won’t be friends with anymore. To be honest, I’ve never really minded such things as there are those that I know I will be friends with for years to come and those who I have always thought to be the biggest asshat fuckers in the world and I will gladly bid them good riddance. In college, I had my very own Julie Cooper. You know the type, the girl who no matter what will always get her way. No one likes her, but will put up with her because getting on this whore’s shitlist will only deepen your desire to be shot or at least graduate. The bitch just won’t go away. No matter where I go, there she is. Like a god damn pariah. I swear if it came down to it, she’d eat me alive or nip at my toes.
Over the years, it’s been my experience that I hold out on to the duds for friends, far longer than any normal person would. It’s like I’m hoping that maybe if I stick around long enough the culprit will change and become somewhat bearable. But alas, this has never happened. So I essentially am fucking myself over and over and over again, in hopes that someone else will change their behavior. For a smart girl, I can be a real dumbass sometimes. That said, admitting that there is a problem is the first step to regaining my sanity after years of being belittled and being lied to. Of course now that I have had this great epiphany and I’m all ready to throw in the towel, I can’t bring myself to just say it to her face. I can only sit and whimper about it to others who have already been enlightened. They just nod and smile and say “there there, I hate to say I told you so”. Maybe one day I’ll get some balls.