To you.

So, I'm gonna be a little bitter, obtuse, and rude.

Fuck you.

Fuck you for pretending that we're just friends.
Fuck you for brushing off my advances.
Fuck you for ever treating me like I was special, and especially for not doing it now.
Fuck you for letting me think anything could be.
Fuck you for your ability to place me behind everything in priority. Why do you get this luxury? Why is it that I must ignore my feelings and hesitations and do whatever it is you want when you want, and you can just come and go as you please? Oh that's right. You're a man. You call the shots, don't you? And I just ought to feel lucky that I get whatever attention you deem appropriate for me at the time. God forbid you do something for my pleasure without thinking of your own.
Fuck you for making me feel guilty about my hatred for the attention other women get, while still ogling and treating them special yourself. Oh, I can't say she's ugly, but you can say she's "pretty"/"easy on the eyes"/"got a great rack"? Where are those compliments to me? Either I'm just supposed to assume the things you think about me, or I'm just not worthy of your admiration.
Fuck you for pretending to listen.
Fuck you for your useless, selfish "advice".
Fuck you and your attitude.
Fuck you for making me ever feel unsafe and uncomfortable to the point where I wonder how and where I can just get away.
Fuck you for never loving me.
Fuck you for never caring about me.
I'm more than what I can offer you, goddamnit.
I deserve that attention, that admiration. I deserve to hear that I'm beautiful, what you admire about me. I deserve to assume that since you don't offer those thoughts, you're thinking other thoughts about me. I deserve better than sheer obligation to keep me sated and quiet. I deserve love.

I feel like if one person appreciated my looks the way I appreciate my significant others', I'd feel better about myself. What's the point in the what if, though? All anybody's ever going to tell me is that it's a notion I need to release myself of, as if my every day wasn't a struggle to do just that, to not feel on the outside, to feel like I'm living, not surviving.

Fuck you for pretending my problems and concerns are insignificant.

I guess I've come to a point where I want them to be straightforward and honest about it all...but I have a feeling that if they were, I wouldn't like it very much.
"How could anybody not love you, Erin?" Fuck you. There've been plenty who haven't, who don't, who won't, who'll pretend just to get something out of me. Fuck you.
Fuck you for pretending I'm normal, and thinking I'm not.

Fuck me.

Fuck me for never seeing the flashing neon signs.
Fuck me for thinking I don't need to change, and the world does.
Fuck me for putting it all on the line.
Fuck me for trusting.
Fuck me for my selfishness.
Fuck me for my lies.
Fuck me for my desperation.
Fuck me for not speaking my mind.
Fuck me for expecting anyone to read my mind.
Fuck me for waiting around.
Fuck me for letting this shit continue.

I'm going to go drown my troubles in pasta. Be honest, would you?