The things I like about you are equaled only by the things I can't fucking stand about you.
I'm pissed off like you wouldn't believe today. This is a better feeling that depressed, though, so I'm sticking with it.
I read your post last night about your friend killing himself, and #1's engagement. How could you not tell me this stuff? How could you possibly think I wouldn't care or would resent you for mentioning it to me?
God damn it, Jaimee, you tell me all the time how you believe me when I say things, and you obviously don't. Not at all. I told you I didn't want you to censor yourself and you came back and said "Yeah you do." Why would I lie about it? I told you I don't want you to pretend your past never existed, then you post in your journal with the exact opposite. Meanwhile you accuse me of "lashing out", when you're the one who gets angry and accusatory when all I'm trying to do is apologize and tell you how I feel. And even when I DO tell you how I feel, you rarely believe me.
You've also said that you'd deal with me with patience and understanding rather than anger. What happened to that promise?
I was expecting you to be understanding yesterday. I know now that you couldn't be understanding, because you had things on your mind that you needed to sort out, too. But I didn't know that at the time, and it only got me more upset. This could have been avoided if you would have just told me you were having some issues, but instead you just told me a million times what a good mood you were in.
I realize a lot of this is my fault for not expressing myself better, but you should also be more understanding of the fact that I'm just not fucking capable of that. Especially right now, when I don't know how to deal with anything.
Last night I tried calling Brice, Barb, Fabish, Mullens, my dad, Steph... I was so fucking angry and tired and lonely and I didn't have anyone anymore. None of them were home, and only Steph would have been in a position to help me anyway. I just wanted someone to be there. I'm so fucking sick of being alone all the time and I know it's my own fucking fault, for the most part.
All I did was watch TV and pet Abby.
Later, online, I got to talk to Steph, who cheered me up at least a little. I know, especially right now, that you're in the same boat I am. You have issues you need to take care of and can't focus on helping me right now. I'm not going to tell you that's the wrong choice.
But, I also know that if I were to try and email you or call you or something, you'd only take what I said the wrong way, which would make you feel worse about everything. You've made me feel a lot worse on a lot of different occasions, Jaimee. I refuse to do the same thing to you.