on girls.
It's funny, you never really realize how little you do talk about something with some people.
I hung out with my friend a few days ago, and we stumbled on to the fact that I even had an ex. Woops.
We then got to talking about girls. I don't know what it is about guys. Yes, girls can be crazy, but why do they always believe crazy girls?
She had a similar cheating situation to mine, and the girl dropped some odd fact for having barely talked to him like that she had some sort of extreme family issue or something that didn't quite match up to reel her bf in and he fell for it.
Kind of like how this girl told my ex she was raped the night or so after he stopped talking to her. Convenient or what?
The worst part in both situations is that these girls KNEW there was someone else around and did what they did anyway. Yet, they went for them. What is it about that, I'll never understand, that compels them to believe this stuff and not believe us when we're telling them they're probably lying.
Does broken really draw in broken like that or are they just idiots? (in the kindest meaning possible), and we're left in the dust.
Not all situations are like this, for sure.
My classmate and hers worked it out, they're through it and still together.
I guess it's what kills me about Glenn and I, the 'unknown'. We could've gotten through it and such, but he's voluntarily with her now, this girl who made up such stories, who knew I was there, who I was, and did what she did anyway, prior to even what happened last summer, of all people. It just doesn't make sense that our friendship could mean that little? (yer, old news).
It never fails that people who I choose to tell ask me how he chose her over our friendship and all that time, as we were best friends. Or rather chose her despite how it would ruin our friendship after all our history. They always ask me that. And how I can't get closure.
And I feel like the crazy one for having tried so hard to be real. Go figure, eh. But it seems it'll never matter, and doesn't. I'll never have that closure, and it's easier to just convince yourself you never mattered, like I convinced myself in summer 2010. I'm a forgotten story. I have nothing to lose anymore; I've already lost it.
I hung out with my friend a few days ago, and we stumbled on to the fact that I even had an ex. Woops.
We then got to talking about girls. I don't know what it is about guys. Yes, girls can be crazy, but why do they always believe crazy girls?
She had a similar cheating situation to mine, and the girl dropped some odd fact for having barely talked to him like that she had some sort of extreme family issue or something that didn't quite match up to reel her bf in and he fell for it.
Kind of like how this girl told my ex she was raped the night or so after he stopped talking to her. Convenient or what?
The worst part in both situations is that these girls KNEW there was someone else around and did what they did anyway. Yet, they went for them. What is it about that, I'll never understand, that compels them to believe this stuff and not believe us when we're telling them they're probably lying.
Does broken really draw in broken like that or are they just idiots? (in the kindest meaning possible), and we're left in the dust.
Not all situations are like this, for sure.
My classmate and hers worked it out, they're through it and still together.
I guess it's what kills me about Glenn and I, the 'unknown'. We could've gotten through it and such, but he's voluntarily with her now, this girl who made up such stories, who knew I was there, who I was, and did what she did anyway, prior to even what happened last summer, of all people. It just doesn't make sense that our friendship could mean that little? (yer, old news).
It never fails that people who I choose to tell ask me how he chose her over our friendship and all that time, as we were best friends. Or rather chose her despite how it would ruin our friendship after all our history. They always ask me that. And how I can't get closure.
And I feel like the crazy one for having tried so hard to be real. Go figure, eh. But it seems it'll never matter, and doesn't. I'll never have that closure, and it's easier to just convince yourself you never mattered, like I convinced myself in summer 2010. I'm a forgotten story. I have nothing to lose anymore; I've already lost it.