God dammit. I get more and more fucking pissed every time I think of Ryan and my other friends and how much fucking money they owe me. The DAY BEFORE my birthday I got my first ever income tax check, $60, and ended up giving $40 of it to him, which he claimed he paid back when he gave me a $10 present meant for somebody else as a last-minute ( Read more... )

Okay, what. I don't understand. I treat you like gold and you treat me like crap. Expendable crap. Like you think I'm trapped under your thumb and like no matter how poorly you treat me, I'm never going to leave. We spend hours every day talking about you and you literally know absolutely nothing about me, because you don't even care enough to ask ( Read more... )