-I wish I'd stop dreaming about you. Seeing your face still tears at my heart, even just in my sleep.

-I'm sorry I told you I didn't feel like I was your friend anymore. But my friends are the people who still take the time to talk to me, or, if they need space, tell me instead of dropping off the grid. I'm not going to hug you when you not only haven't spoken to me in two weeks, but are also giving me my stuff back from your place. This wasn't a fun occasion. Especially since you forgot some of the stuff I told you about, AFTER texting it to you three separate times to make sure you got everything. Now I have to see you yet again.

By the way, you mixed up one of her bras in my stuff. I threw it away. It was ratty, and besides, I could wear that chest band as a hula hoop. How could you possibly think that fit me? You can't eyeball a size difference between myself and someone who weighs one-and-a-half of me? You can't remember which underwear belonged to me and what underwear belongs to her? I don't care that she's a larger woman, but I do care that you'd give me another woman's underwear when there is such an obvious disparity in size for you to be able to tell the difference. Word to the wise: If you're gonna be screwing more than one woman, you need to make damn sure you know whose underwear is whose. That's called courtesy.

I wish I could've seen the look on your face today when you saw him working there. You're probably upset I didn't tell you ahead of time, but I really only tell those kinds of things to people who bother taking an interest in my life. Maybe if you had, you wouldn't have had to find out the hard way that your dream job was offered to my boyfriend instead of you.